


Born Free

by Crossley



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Citadel DLC, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:32:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 74,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crossley/pseuds/Crossley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Shepard was a study in redaction, black lines bleeding through history, the living embodiment of negative space.</i> A re-imagining of the events of the Citadel DLC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Trigger Warnings.** This story contains a (non-explicit) non-consensual sexual encounter. Additional warnings apply for suicide, mental illness, psychological trauma, violence, and some gendered and ableist slurs.
> 
> Mass Effect and its characters are the property of Bioware.
> 
> Art by the incredible [greendelle](http://greendelle.tumblr.com). Fanmix for this story is [here](http://adamnrayofsunshine.tumblr.com/post/52180276907/born-free-the-mix). Additional notes and acknowledgments are at the end.

 

 

 

> _“The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone.”_
> 
> —Thane Krios

 

 

 

**ARCTURUS STATION, DECEMBER 2182**

 

Anderson hated chasing ghosts.

That wasn’t a metaphor. For three days he’d tracked Lieutenant Shepard across Arcturus Station and found only traces. She flickered in glitched security footage, timed viruses circumnavigating Alliance VIs and erasing her from the record. False trails cobbled from old footage only told him where he _wouldn’t_ find her. Logs at docking stations and security checkpoints were wiped by habit.

Only the combined might of the brass and Alliance R&D’s compulsive need to study whatever new toy, loophole, or exploit Shepard wielded kept her from receiving any punishment other than a tap on the wrist for all the havoc she wrought.

(Shepard and Alliance IT had a love-hate relationship.)

He caught a break the third night. A tip from the bartender brought him to one of the seedy bars at the edge of Arcturus. Shepard sat at the bar, knocking back shots while yet another bad remix of “White Christmas” blared over the speakers. He smelled the vodka and tried not to dwell on the parallels.

Anderson was grateful he found her in time. Drinking that heavy meant she’d be shipping out in the morning, and expected to sleep off her hangover in a cargo bay before disembarking and arranging private transport to her _real_ destination.

“Shepard.” He gestured to the bartender, who summoned him up a whiskey, because Shepard wasn’t the only one who liked to drink in shitholes. “Where you off to?”

“Classified,” which was Shepard-speak for ‘you don’t want to know.’

Shepard had never been the cuddliest of marines, but five years as a covert operative took her from cool to solid nitrogen. Sometimes Anderson wanted to pretend Torfan changed her, made her hollow-eyed and ice-veined. But Torfan had been a revelation, not a sea change, and her finely-honed killer instincts served the Alliance too well to waste in ordinary rotation. Never mind that at the rate she was going, she’d be dead before reaching 30.

Thank God for the Council’s latest whim. 

“You’re supposed to be on shore leave.”

She shrugged and downed her fresh shot. “Records say a lot of things that aren’t true.”

So that was how they were playing it tonight. 

“You’ve been avoiding me, Shepard.”

Shepard had the decency to look abashed. “No, not you. That was a...bonus?” Her words were clipped, deliberate, to avoid slurring. She traced her finger along the edge of her glass. “What’s this about, Anderson?”

He sipped his whiskey. “Can’t a man check on his protégé without having an agenda?”

Shepard snorted, and Anderson shook his head. As protégés went, he could’ve chosen better. Someone who didn’t assault his ego every fifteen seconds might’ve been nice. But Shepard was the best to come out of N7 in the last decade, and someone needed to watch her six. 

No one else was alive to do it.

This wouldn’t have been the time or place of his choosing for this conversation, but Anderson could make it work. A few drinks in and Shepard stopped tracking every entrance. She never truly downgraded from sniper position but she relaxed her trigger finger. He had to make the most of the opportunity.

“You heard about the new stealth frigate?”

“That Council project with the turians? Yeah, the brain trusts in R&D can’t shut up about it. Some of the talk goes over even my head.” She waved down the bartender. “Heard Zander’s the CO.”

“Not anymore.” Anderson couldn’t suppress a grin. “Word came down from the brass today.  I’ll be commanding officer on the SSV Normandy.”

Shepard’s face broke into a rare, wide smile. “That’s great, Anderson,” she said. “I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.” 

Anderson liked it when she forgot to not be human; her warmth was infectious when she let it escape. He sat there for a moment, savoring his anticipation. Reality might be worse or better, but it was always different. “There’s more. I got leave to hand-pick my crew.”

“Nice.” Shepard raised her refilled glass to him. He clinked, droplets spilling on the bar. “Half the Alliance is gonna be crawling up your ass when that gets out.”

“I have a half-meter stack of datapads on my desk,” Anderson admitted, “but I’ll be taking several officers from the Tokyo with me. And I’ve already picked my XO.”

She chuckled and raised her shot glass to her lips. “Oh? Who’s the unlucky bastard?”

“I’m looking at her.”

Shepard spluttered, sending a mist of vodka everywhere. Anderson closed his eyes against the burn of the alcohol. She looked over at him, then at her empty glass, setting it down. “With all due respect, sir—”

“Don’t give me that crap, Shepard.”

“Anderson, there’re a thousand well-qualified people who would drink eezo to be your pencil-pusher. I’m a marine. Ground-pounder, remember?”

  


“What you are,” Anderson said, “is one of the Alliance’s top infiltration specialists with extensive experience in covert ops and stealth reconnaissance. And you’d be leading the Normandy’s ground team along with pushing my pencils.”

“Your ground team’s gonna love being led by the Butcher of Torfan.” 

She was sarcastic, but not bitter. It still irritated him. “Look, I don’t know how the hell you did it, but every single survivor from Torfan under your command swears you made the right call.” 

One of the neatest tricks in the Alliance, it baffled Alliance Psych even today. Anderson guessed Shepard let her ice melt just enough to let the soldiers under her command know just how monstrous batarian slavers could be.

Shepard scoffed and knocked back the rest of her drink. “I’m fine where I am, Anderson. Promise.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Whether the lie was to him or to both of them Anderson didn’t know. He put on his command voice. “You’re going feral, Shepard. You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to take a real command posting.”

Shepard looked up at him, her gaze piercing straight through him. He’d seen that expression before, an insolent snap in her eyes in the instant after receiving an order. Watching her FTL-drive mind process, a nanosecond rebellion not even N7 training beat out of her. Somehow the answer was always ‘yes, sir,’ but her superiors were left knowing she fell in by choice, not by training.

Still, she’d never balked yet. 

“All right. I’m in.”

Anderson let out the breath he'd been holding. “Good. Glad that’s done.” He held out his hand. Shepard studied it, visibly confused. “Job comes with a promotion. Won’t be final for a few weeks, but let me be the first to shake your hand...Commander.”

Shepard took his hand in hers, and Anderson smiled. She didn’t know it yet, and she wouldn’t thank him if she did, but he’d just saved her life.


	2. Citadel: Shore Leave

[ ](http://www.flickr.com/photos/greendelle/8951924632/)

**THE CITADEL, SILVERSUN STRIP, DECEMBER 2186**

**_one._ **

Four years later and Anderson still wanted to save her.

He never could leave shit alone, even with the Reapers raining a thousand kinds of hell onto Earth. At least Anderson understood Shepard only ever needed saving from one thing, and had the good sense to let her handle the rest. Someday, Shepard would thank him, proper-like, maybe with a bottle of Red Janey Special.

She hoped someday would come.

They’d cut it too close fleeing the Athena Nebula. A Reaper gun nearly sheared off a wing. Only Joker and EDI’s phenomenal flying saved the Normandy, but they’d still taken a hit. So the order to dry dock at the Citadel for a retrofit surprised no one. The complaints had been building for weeks, despite her crew’s attempts to keep the grumbling out of her earshot. It wasn’t just imbalances in the drive core or that the Kodiak resembled a piece of flying scrap metal. The little things, like broken coffee makers and low water pressure in the showers, chipped away at a crew under siege.

Then there were the little things that were actually big things, like the rate of alcohol consumption in the port observation lounge or that Chakwas asked Tali to create a stronger bypass for her medication cabinet. Shepard picked a ground team more than once based on lowest combined blood alcohol content. Some days she thought her goal was to win the Reaper war before her crew died of liver failure.

Thessia had rocked more worlds than Liara’s. Before landing in Armali, they’d been on track to finish the Crucible by Christmas. There’d been hope buzzing through her ship. Now? The war stretched back into forever. Traynor was coordinating with Alliance HQ, searching for a lead on Kai Leng, but they’d found nothing so far.

So Anderson decided to meddle, and Shepard wasn't sure if she should should thank him or punch him for it.

“This is amazing,” Kaidan said, dropping his bag by the door. His eyes widened at the view from the windows. “Wait, this is the right address, right? You didn’t override the locks and sneak us in here?”

“Not this time,” Shepard said, smirking at the memory, and he flushed. There was a newness to them she cherished, the lines of one another familiar enough to be comfortable, different enough to excite them both.

Kaidan watched her, patient, not heated, the way he did when he was waiting for her to volunteer more information. She obliged him. “Anderson said he needed to entertain a lot as a councilor, hence the show pad.”

‘Show pad’ was inadequate for wall-to-wall windows, Silean granite counter-tops, and bed sheets woven by asari matriarchs. The apartment was cavernous and decadent and very, very strange. Shepard didn’t know how to relax in open air. Not enough walls for someone who lived with her back to one. There was a passable sniper’s perch and only one entrance to monitor, but the space overall was too open, too light, too gorgeous and _fuck_ , she had issues.

There was a time when a place like this was a pipe dream, a bright-light alternative to a dreary farming existence. The small-colony girl making it on the Big Citadel, the sort of vid she’d pretend to hate.

Those vids skipped a few parts of the story. The six-digit body count had piled up off-screen. Becoming the twenty-second century bionic woman sucked as makeover scenes went. She was confident there’d been no armadas of synthetic eldritch abominations trying to eradicate all life in the galaxy, either.

(Apparently she transcended genre.)

“Pretty damn showy.” Kaidan ambled over to the windows; as if sensing something, he knelt to examine the bottom edge. “Cyclonic barriers on the windows, top of the line, with a bonus extendable blast cover.” He knocked on the glass. “I think the glass is hanar make. It’d stop a shot from your Widow.” Well, at least they had issues _together_.

“He was a politician,” Shepard said, keeping her tone light. “A lot of people want to kill politicians.”

“Right.” Kaidan chuckled. “And Anderson’s really just giving you this place?”

“He said we could use a comfortable operating base on the Citadel, and he’s committed to Earth once the war is over. Always nice to have a place to run to ground, right?”

That hadn’t been what Anderson said. It wasn’t even in the general vicinity.

_Shepard, last week two of my squads holed up in a village liquor store three clicks from London. Found an untouched stash, practically a miracle out here. Some of them started a fire, and one of the guys had a harmonica. They were singing and laughing, toasting the dead. I almost told them to knock it off, that the Reaper ground forces would hear the noise, but I didn’t have the heart. And you know what, Shepard? The next day, those hungover sons of bitches fought harder than I’ve seen in months. Even brought down one of those giant flying snake things. They’re still going strong, Shepard. War has a way of making a man forget he’s human. We forget that, and we’ve already lost._

She knew what Anderson was doing. Extending a hand, as he’d done all those years ago in a bar on Arcturus Station. These days there were over a dozen people to do it for him, but he never quite fell out of the habit.

This part of the wards made the war feel distant. It wasn’t – all she had to do was close her eyes and she’d remember – but it felt that way. She could stop and admire the real pine tree in Tiberius Towers’ lobby instead of tallying geth prime units or calculating death tolls on Council homeworlds.

“Hey,” Kaidan said, and she snapped to attention. Her mind drifted more these days, but he brought her back faster than anyone else. “What’re you thinking about?”

Ten things and nothing all at once, so she settled on one that pulled her since she’d first walked into the room. “You could put the entire prefab where I grew up in this living area,” she admitted. “And I shared that with five people.”

She paced along the bar area, vaulting over the couch. “The drywall we put up to divide my room was just along...here,” she said, gesturing to the line she just walked. “Other than my bed, I had about a square meter to stand in.”

It was Kaidan’s turn to look thoughtful. She reached for his hand. “Something wrong?”

“No,” he said, stroking her hand with his thumb. “It’s nice to hear you talk about your life before the Normandy, that’s all.”

“I talk about my past.” That was more defensive than she intended.

Kaidan let out a short, skeptical laugh. “You really don’t, Shepard. I understand why,” he assured her, cutting off her second protest. “If it's not painful, it’s classified. But it’s...nice.”

He sounded almost like the good old days, back before dying and betrayal and all the messiness of them. Shepard liked them better now, because she’d grown a bit more even tempered and Kaidan a bit less, but there was still this nostalgic ache when she thought about them on the SR-1, the love that should have been rather than their battered state of affairs. And that was the story of her life, their lives, really: people they should have been, could have been if not for razed homesteads and wires in brains, classified files and sadistic teachers, beacons and death and everything in between.

Kaidan grasped her wrist and tugged her close, and she wrapped her other arm around his waist. “Hey,” he said, his forehead resting on hers, lips curling into a smirk she recognized.

“Hey yourself,” she said, but as she went to kiss him, a loud ‘ping!’ followed by Joker’s voice killed the growing tension. The voice mail rolled automatically.

“Shepaaard! Get this. I got a table at Ryuusei jus’ by dropping yer name! They gots a six-month waiting list! But...uh...now they’re looking at me funny. I think you need to, you know, show up? Yeeeeeah, thanks!”

Shepard’s brow furrowed. “That’s weird. He hasn’t talked to me since Thessia.” Since she used him as an emotional chew toy, to be specific.

“Maybe he’s trying breaking the ice?” Kaidan said. “Things have been pretty rough on all of us.”

That was a nice thought. Total bullshit, but nice nonetheless. “Maybe. Guess I should go pull his ass out of the fire.”

“Seems like that’s becoming a habit.” Kaidan kissed her temple.

“You know me. Champion of brittle-boned pilots.” Shepard sighed. “Was sort of hoping to christen the beds upstairs, though.”

“Really?” He trailed a finger down her arm. “I was thinking about that table, actually.”

“What, not the windows?” She licked her lips.

Kaidan's laugh was low and husky in her ear. “I like how you think.” He made a show of stepping away from her, releasing a long, dramatic sigh. “Go rescue Joker. We’ll break this place in later.”

“Aye aye, sir!" Shepard tossed him a mock salute.

 

**_two._ **

“I’m naked,” Garrus announced.

“Er, right.” Kaidan shut his eyes against a neon-bright Rosenkov ad. Disturbing images danced behind his eyelids. “Thanks for that visual.”

“Any time, Alenko.” Garrus gave him a creepy leer, his mandibles flaring wide.

“You are not naked.” Tali scoffed, but whether it was at Garrus or at the small plant she held up Kaidan couldn’t tell. “You look very nice in civilian clothing. You should be grateful you even have options. When I want to dress up, all I can do is change out my suit’s fabrics.”

[ ](http://www.flickr.com/photos/greendelle/8951919900/)

They were shopping a bazaar in the lower wards, crowded and noisy but dimly lit, a compromise that probably wouldn’t trigger a migraine. Shepard’s new apartment boasted an impressive kitchen but little actual food, so he’d wandered outside when his stomach started growling. He could do without the canned Christmas carol remixes from every human-owned shop he passed, but walking with so many people around him helped to lift his grim post-Thessia mood.

What didn’t help was Thessia being the topic on everyone’s lips.

He ran into Tali and Garrus while passing by a junk dealer, and still wasn’t sure why they tagged along. Maybe they didn’t trust him to pick out decent dextro food, or maybe they just wanted to make him extremely uncomfortable.

Despite the noise and crowds, he preferred the ambiance here on the strip. In the Wards closest to the Presidium, humans and aliens intermingled freely. Residents of mostly-human areas spotted his amp jack and adjusted their attitudes accordingly, even in the midst of total galactic war. Walking with Tali and Garrus would raise even more eyebrows. _A biotic, a turian, and a quarian walk into a bar..._ it was like the beginning of a bad joke.

“Your suit is already nice,” Garrus assured Tali. “Shows off how, ah, supple your waist is.”

Shepard turned a blind eye to crew fraternization as long as it didn’t affect the mission, not just because that would’ve made her a raging hypocrite. There was a difference between battlefield banter and listening to Tali and Garrus flirt in a Citadel market, though. The latter was more...intimate. As if they were an ordinary couple and not...well, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy and Garrus Vakarian.

“Still, it’s much easier to appreciate a body when it’s wearing regular clothing,” Tali said, wriggling her hips. “You can...enjoy the lines more.”

Were he and Shepard this bad on the SR-1? He fumbled for a new topic.

“Hey, your plant stand sells mini-Christmas trees,” Kaidan remarked, poking at a tiny ornament. The tree rocked on its tiny wooden-composite base, and the salarian manning the booth glared at him. Kaidan backed away, hands raised in surrender.

Tali visibly ignored Kaidan, examining her plant again. She made a point of that lately, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why. There had been an adjustment period when he first came back aboard the Normandy, a lingering tension spurred by the crew wanting to protect Shepard. Kaidan understood that, even appreciated the people who’d watched her six when he couldn’t. The problem was that Tali had welcomed him back tension-free. Kaidan could be dense sometimes, but no one could miss the thread of hostility coloring her recent behavior.

“I think it looks healthy. Not that I would know.” She put the plant, along with two others, in her basket. “But fresh herbs taste so much better than dry ones.”

“The decon chamber will probably kill those,” Garrus pointed out.

“They’re not for the Normandy. They’re a new-home gift for Shepard’s apartment. Also, if we’re going to be spending time there, I want decent food.”

Kaidan eyed the plant. “Because the five hundred credits worth of dextro food I just ordered was...what? Filler?”

Tali waved his question off. “We need to stop at the junk dealer. I’ll have to assemble a drone to water them. Shepard will never remember.”

Garrus groaned. “I’m standing naked in a market talking about quarian spices. This is the weirdest dream ever.”

“Please stop talking about being naked,” Kaidan said. He popped a grape from his grocery bag in his mouth.

“And you should stop eating Shepard’s fruit.” Tali wagged a finger at him.

He was about to make a quip about biotic metabolisms (maybe something to make _them_ feel awkward), when the crowd...changed. The ripple of tension through the air put him on guard. Kaidan drew his Carnifex from its holster. In the corner of his eye, Tali and Garrus also tensed.

"Something's wrong," Kaidan said. He brought up a light barrier, low enough to keep from causing more panic.

“And me without a gun,” Garrus lamented, eying Kaidan's pistol.

“We don’t even know if there’s anything to shoot yet, bosh’tet.” Tali’s omni-tool glowed as she scanned the area. “Comm chatter from C-Sec just spiked.”

His omni-tool pinged. “Uh...hello? Anyone listening out there?” The connection was rough, but Kaidan picked out Joker’s voice.

“Joker? What’s going on?” Kaidan watched as the crowd swelled around them, not quite panicked yet.

“Dinner went to shit!” Kaidan had first dismissed the screechy note in Joker’s voice as comm static. Now it blared through the line. “First we got railroaded by some desk jockey from Intel, and then mercs attacked. The leader got off some seriously crappy one-liners before Shepard shot him.”

Tali had her helmet in her hands. “And this is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Joker, is Shepard all right?” She hadn’t left the apartment armed, in the spirit of shore leave.

“She told me to find the crew,” Joker said. “And then she used me as bait so she could steal a gun off a merc. Can you believe that shit? Using a cripple for bait! When this war is over, I’m making sure that goes in the vid.”

“Joker,” Kaidan repeated, trying not to snap, “is Shepard okay?”

“Uh...” There was a searching pause. “She may or may not have fallen through a fish tank while trying to rescue the hapless desk jockey.”

“She _what_?” Tali shrieked into the comm.

“Sounds like Shepard,” Garrus said, admiration gleaming in his eyes.

A C-Sec alert pealed through the markets, requesting all civilians evacuate the area. Tinny assurances that everything was under control did nothing. The crowd stampeded. Kaidan, Tali, and Garrus ran along to keep from being swept under as the people around them started yelling about Cerberus raids and Reaper husks.

“Kaidan? Garrus?” Liara came onto the channel. “Is everything all right? My network just lit up.”

“Shepard’s got mercs after her!” Garrus barked into his comm. “Sounds like a fun time.”

“You would say that.” Kaidan could hear Tali’s scowl. “What are we going to do?”

There was a small, empty alcove behind a half-trampled stand, and Kaidan pulled Tali and Garrus towards it. They fell in immediately, tucking into the space while the crowds rushed by them.

“Can anyone raise Shepard?” Liara asked.

“She’s probably cloaked.” Tali’s omni-tool pinged again. “Shepard’s infiltration software suite automatically blocks communication unless she authorizes a manual override. EDI usually handles that. EDI, are you there?”

“Of course, Tali. I am monitoring C-Sec chatter and local news channels, collating reports about the damage to the Ryuusei restaurant, and attempting to pinpoint Shepard’s location. She is not responding to my queries.” It would have been passive-aggressive had anyone else said it, but EDI's voice was at its usual pleasant, level tone.

“Can you hack us into Shepard’s comm?”

“I have never tried.”

Kaidan pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away the screaming crowds. “Could you try?”

“One moment, please.” EDI’s link went dead.

“What now?” Tali scanned the now-emptying ward. “You’re the only one who’s armed, Kaidan.”

“See, this is why I hate taking my armor off.” Garrus crossed his arms. “My stuff’s back at the turian embassy in the Presidium.”

“Poor Garrus,” Tali said with mock sympathy. Behind her, a small group of salarians ran past, shrieking as their arms flapped above their heads.

“Uh, hello? Anyone want to rescue the guy with the brittle bones from the big, scary mercs?” Joker sounded more annoyed than frightened. “Plus I’m pretty sure Shepard broke my pinky.”

“Jeff will require extraction,” EDI piped up over the channel, “as he is not combat-ready in any sense of the word.”

“Thanks, EDI. You’re a pal.”

“That is not how you referred to me last night, Jeff.”

“And this conversation is over,” Kaidan said. “Tali, go rescue Joker. Garrus, suit up and bring the team to Anderson’s place. We'll rendezvous there.”

“Sounds good. Go play hero to your girlfriend, Alenko.” Garrus made a face Kaidan concluded was the turian equivalent of a smirk. “This is probably the only chance you’ll ever get.”

Kaidan gave Garrus an extra _push_ to his destination as the crowd swallowed them, the turian’s laughter echoing back his despite the stream of people carrying Tali and Garrus away.

He took another minute before wading out, waiting for EDI to deduce Shepard’s approximate location from analyses of security footage and general wreckage. “Do you see her on any cameras, EDI?”

“Not for the past 4.7 minutes, Major Alenko.”

“Makes sense,” Garrus remarked over the channel. “Shepard’ll want to stay above the mercs. She can do open-heart surgery from a rafter.”

That was Shepard, climbing like a pyjak. Kaidan reminded himself she still had her omni-tool and a pistol, and therefore there was no reason to panic. If she caught him doing anything like panicking, she’d start laughing. Which might be worth it just to get the glazed look in her eyes she’d sported since Thessia to disappear.

“C-Sec has formally issued a lockdown for the lower part of the strip,” EDI explained. “Spectre authorization should allow you access to the area.”

Kaidan pushed past a knot of turians, almost tripping over the remains of a butcher’s stand. “Any luck raising Shepard?”

“One moment. Alliance communications are being jammed. I am rerouting through C-Sec.”

“Just Alliance communications?” Garrus came on the line. “That’s...odd.”

Kaidan's brow furrowed. It was pretty damn odd, but there wasn’t time to investigate.

“You may try contacting Shepard now, Major.”

It was the first piece of good news he’d had since this whole mess began. He stopped to clear a C-Sec checkpoint, but the commanding officer recognized him and waved him past the electric lines.

“Shepard? Can you hear me? You okay?” Keeping his nerves under wraps was a tall order.

“I’m fine,” Shepard said with her usual breezy confidence. After a pause, punctuated by gunfire, she added, “Might need a little backup.”

Shepard ‘needing backup’ meant she was outnumbered at least eight to one. (Twelve to one if she was still up in the rafters.) Kaidan counted to five and reminded himself that Shepard’s resilience was part of her charm. Besides, anyone else would be dead right now.

“It’s good to hear your voice.” That was the closest Kaidan could get to conveying ‘Thank God you’re safe’ without setting off a round of laughter mid-firefight. “Joker told me what happened. I’m on foot, but not far.” The crowds had thinned now, with the occasional terrified civilian streaking past him.

“Excuse me.” An unfamiliar voice butted into the channel. “Who is this? You’re on an unsecured channel, and you’re putting Commander Shepard in danger!”

The new voice was nebbish and self-righteous; it sent an unexpected nervous flare of energy down his back. “I’m what? Who is this?” And how was this channel unsecured? Shepard didn’t use anything _but_ secured channels.

“Hang on.” Another pause, a whoosh, and an explosion echoed over the channel. “Joker mentioned Staff Analyst Brooks, right? That’s her. Everybody play nice.”

Kaidan slid as a C-Sec shuttle nearly collided into him. “Joker. What was the name of the intelligence officer who met you at the restaurant?”

“Uh...Brooke something? Kinda bug-eyed and babble-y?”

Close enough. He switched back to the main channel. “Brooks, this is Major Kaidan Alenko, I’m the Normandy’s Executive Officer.” That was only true in the field – EDI churned out most of the mundane procedural work in a tenth of the time – but the Alliance got nervous when anyone suggested the Normandy’s actual second-in-command was synthetic.

“Oh, then you must be _that_ Major Alenko!”

“The...one who’s a Spectre?” Across the way, two dark figures paced. He powered down his barrier and crouched behind a half-decimated fruit stand.

“Sure, that too!” Her voice was bright and just a touch spacey.

Kaidan was beginning to understand why Intel concluded the geth had been wiped out after Sovereign’s attack.

“Can you tell me what’s going on here?” Medium-weight hard-suits, modded Tempest SMGs, but those omni-tools were built for heavy use. If he waited a few more seconds, he could tip them over the edge of the ward’s central skyway with minimum fuss.

“Oh, right! Well, there are people trying to kill her, and they got me instead, and let me tell you, sir, medi-gel is _not_ the cure-all the Alliance claims it is—”

“Analyst Brooks!” Kaidan snapped, catching the gunmen’s attention. His barrier re-fired automatically. A quick shield overload sent a shock through their systems, buying him seconds to fling both of them into the skyway chasm. The sick twist in his gut at the thought of the drop dissipated when he remembered who they’d been hired to kill. “Do you know where Shepard is?”

“Not precisely at this moment, but I know where she’s going!”

At last they were getting somewhere. “Can you send me the Nav—”

Klaxons screamed around him. Kaidan had no doubt who started _that_. “Shepard! What are you doing? I heard that from here!”

Another merc spotted him, wearing heavy armor and carrying some kind of flash-fabricated shield. He tried to shoot through the shield’s mail slot, but he didn’t have Shepard’s lightning reflexes. The merc wrenched his shield up and absorbed the shot. Thinking fast, Kaidan ripped the shield out of the merc’s hand with a biotic pull. Then he flattened himself behind the stand, killing his barrier. He listened for approaching footsteps and heard none.

“It’s all under control!” Shepard yelled into her comm. Kaidan knew from long experience that was a filthy, filthy lie.

“Where are you now, sir?” Brooks came back onto the comm line.

“I’m near the...” He craned his neck to read the nearest storefront’s sign. “The Illuminated Primacy’s Glassworks?”

“Hey Kaidan, while you’re there and no one’s watching? _Shoot everything in that store_ ,” Garrus said.

Kaidan almost told Garrus where to shove that suggestion when he spotted the store’s central fixture: a life-sized, Pepto-Bismol sculpture of a hanar, its tentacles entwined around the legs and torso of what appeared to be a stylized Prothean reaching to the sky. Someone had even propped a Santa hat onto the Prothean’s head. If he weren’t in a firefight, he’d stop and take a picture for Javik.

He settled for using a warp field on a vase that reminded him of melted drell scales. When the shatter of the vase brought the heavy back to investigate, Kaidan clenched his fist, executing a reave. The merc rolled into himself as his nervous system seized, writhing in agony. Kaidan was about to shoot him when two of his friends came around the corner.

Firing at the first merc, he listened for the fizzle of shields dropping before pushing the biotic energy from the seizing heavy outward. The second merc was caught in the same system-twisting field. When Kaidan regrouped, the third mercenary, a woman, had vanished.

Then he saw a familiar ripple of light. His heart sped up, hoping it was a cloaked Shepard before remembering the third merc had been carrying a sniper rifle. Shit. Shepard had a better eye for cloaked enemies than he did.

He released the mercs from the reave field, satisfied when they slumped boneless to the ground. Then he recycled the excess energy from the reave’s feedback loop into his barrier, pushing it outward and hardening it, pouring enough dark energy through to solidify it. He couldn’t concentrate on much else when keeping his barrier this dense, but it would buy him time to spot the sniper once she de-cloaked.

“Kaidan?” Garrus wasn’t going to leave this alone.

“I warped a vase,” Kaidan admitted through gritted teeth.

“Shepard’s such a good influence on you.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes.

“Major!” Brooks’s too-cheery voice caused him to nearly drop his barrier. “Here’s the NavPoint for the car lot Shepard’s going to. A C-Sec shuttle will meet you there. I think. Hopefully. Maybe. No, definitely!”

Kaidan’s barrier roiled as it deflected a shot; his sniper would pop up soon. She’d have to de-cloak to keep her hard-suit’s processors from overheating. Kaidan dropped the heavy barrier and rolled out of the way of her red laser target, firing off a few shots of his own. He heard shields drop and pulled the sniper into the air before she re-cloaked, finishing her with the remainder of his clip.

His amp was a bit hot, so he took a breather, pulling up Brooks’s NavPoint. Cision Motors was two blocks off. He examined the mercenaries, looking for identification and extra thermal clips. The first thing Shepard would do when she saw him was ask for his extra clips, so he’d learned to keep extra on hand. He was never sure if she stole his clips because of her faith in his biotic abilities or her lack of faith in his marksmanship. There was no point in taking it personally; compared to Shepard, pretty much everyone not named Garrus Vakarian couldn’t shoot worth shit. “Shepard, Brooks sent me the NavPoint for the skycar lot. I’m on my way.”

“Good.” Shepard was clipped, terse. A roar of gunfire followed with a distant groan at the end.

“What do we know about these mercenaries?” he asked as he picked through the area.

“They have guns and they don’t like me?”

She sounded like she was swatting him away. “Very helpful. Thanks.”

“Commander, it would really be great if you could stay off the comm.” Was that sarcasm from Brooks?

“Hey, they called me!” Shepard sounded like she wanted to be left alone, which was...odd. She adored a good, dirty fight, but her voice was distant, distracted in a way Kaidan had never heard before.

“Kaidan, this is Tali. I’ve got Joker. We’re heading back to the car. Liara’s already in transit, so we’re going to meet the rest of the team on the Presidium.”

Good news was always in short supply during fights. “Did you raise everyone?”

“Yes. Have you found Shepard yet?”

“I’m close,” he said, spotting the Cision Motors sign. A vidscreen his left had Khalisah al-Jilani reporting on the fight in the ward. Below was a news crawl with updated casualties from different regions of Thessia. Kaidan looked away.

“Then hurry up!” Tali barked through the comm.

Kaidan almost told Tali to calm down when he heard Joker yell, “And tell Shepard she owes me for the maybe-broken pinky and the baiting...thing.”

“I’ll get right on that, Joker.”

Beyond the lot sign were three mercenaries waiting for Shepard. How had they known where to go? Was the leak on Shepard’s comm channel that big? He reinforced his barrier, keeping low in the hope of a surprise attack. A gate facing street side was past the mercs, the access point glowing red.

“She ripped right through the restaurant team, the advance guard and Sabre Squad,” one merc muttered to another. “I heard the bitch was tough, but this is fuckin' suicide.”

He laid down a warp field, his amp buzzing as the energy poured out of him. As they staggered, Kaidan twisted the dark energy with a pull, letting the clashing energies detonate both fields and send the first soaring over the edge. The two mercs remaining reeled as dark energy ricocheted through the space. They fired when they saw him, but Kaidan kept his barrier steady, regenerating his energy.

A door clattered open and Shepard burst through, pistol cocked, just as he let the biotics fly, throwing the mercs against the wall. They slid down, crumpling on the floor. Shepard glanced at them, head cocked, before turning to him.

Kaidan’s heart swelled. He never realized how much he worried about her until he knew she was safe, even if “safe” in this case meant bedraggled and damp. Cuts on her forehead and left cheek had already scabbed over; cybernetic implants would ensure there’d be no trace of them by tomorrow.

Project Lazarus wiped Shepard clean, clearing away all of her scars even as it replicated moles, freckles, and birthmarks. Rapid cellular regeneration meant new injuries rarely left their mark on her deep copper skin. She’d even had to redo the tattoo inside her forearm. It was as if Alchera and Omega-4 burned away all the evidence Shepard was ever anything but invincible.

He smirked, even as he struggled to keep his heart out of his throat. “Seems like you’re having a bad day, Shepard.”

She looked down at the mercs he’d thrown, then back at him. For a moment, her eyes were bright and unfocused. Then fog lifted and her gaze bored straight into him. “You could say that.”

Normally she’d give him a cocky, groin-swelling grin right now. You had to admire a woman who took down three merc squads as if she’d strolled through the Presidium. Maybe it was better she didn’t, given that he didn’t have armor to hide his response. “Landing pad’s over there,” he motioned behind him, “but I think it’s behind that locked gate.”

“So we look for a control panel.”

Shepard walked past him, and Kaidan gaped. At some point, she’d been doused in water, and her black tee and slim pants clung to the curve of her hips. Her hair had fallen out of its regulation ponytail, the dark waves streaming to her collarbone. She’d always been beautiful, but the gleam in her dark brown eyes and the flush of battle over her skin made her magnificent.

“Nice outfit,” he murmured, his eyes tracing the dip of her top. Adrenaline and lust mixed pleasantly in his brain, his biotics humming over his hot skin. It took a few seconds to process Shepard staring at him with a raised eyebrow, and he shook off the effects. “Control panel. Right.”

Kaidan snuck a final glance at her ass as he followed her through the lot, letting his gaze trail upward to her ass. “So, you fell through their fish tank?” he asked, aiming to distract himself.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said.

“Such a shame,” he teased. “It’s one of my favorites.” He left off the fact it was the site of his single date between Alchera and Horizon.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Shepard repeated, which was Shepard-speak _for we will never, ever discuss this again_.

Her mood was harder to read than usual. She hadn’t even asked him if he had any spare clips. His eyes narrowed onto her hands. Was it just him, or were they trembling?

She checked each of the terminals at the customer service desk before her eyes latched onto the office door. Her omni-tool flashed, and Shepard palmed a sticky grenade. “Step aside.”

Kaidan glanced through the window. A shaking volus pressed against the glass. He put a hand out, staying her grenade-laden hand. “Hold on.” He rapped on the window. “Can you open the gate?”

The salesman fumbled around, and then the landing pad gate flew open.

“Thanks.”

The volus wheezed. “Please leave,” he pleaded.

Kaidan flashed an innocent grin at Shepard, who rolled her eyes. Despite her training as a stealth operative, she never passed up an opportunity to blow something up.

Shepard walked ahead, barely acknowledging him, and that stung. Kaidan never expected her to faint in his arms; one of the inevitable results of dating Commander Fucking Shepard was that you never got to play hero. It was a more than acceptable tradeoff. A flirty aside or two might’ve been nice, though.

She walked to the landing pad’s edge, staring down into the skyway. The C-Sec shuttle would come in from a lane above them, so Kaidan couldn’t figure out what Shepard was staring at.

“Hey,” Kaidan said, bumping her shoulder with his. “You okay?”

Shepard kissed him.

Not a kiss, but a battery, forsaking the touching of lips for the clack of spit-slick teeth, fingers digging in sweat-damp skin, dried red flecks under fingernails. He lost himself in the violence of her mouth, savored the blood and alcohol on her tongue, drowned in the sense-memory of post-mission adrenaline-fueled fucks, slammed against doors and fish tanks, pinned and snarling on walls, buried so deep inside her he forgot where he ended and she began.

This was the kiss after Rannoch, after Despoina, a kiss of celebration and vindication. This was Shepard, legs parted and heart cracked open as she never was in slow, tender hours. This was her mouth print on his shoulder, his fingerprints plum-black on her skin.

This was happening in a skycar lot.

Kaidan mentally said, “Screw it,” and started pulling down her top when Shepard knocked him backward. They landed hard behind a shipping crate pallet as heavy gunfire blasted through the landing area. A quick peek above the crates confirmed his suspicions: more mercs had arrived, in the C-Sec shuttle, no less. He expanded his barrier over both of them as Shepard reloaded her pistol.

Above them he heard a crash and a roar, glass fragments showering him. A blue-shifting, red-armored boulder clunked onto the shuttle, shorting the engine and pinning the vehicle to the floor. As the mercs stumbled, that boulder leapt from the shuttle roof, stomping towards his quarry.

Kaidan looked over to Shepard, who had a huge grin on her face.

Well.

Maybe things were looking up.

 

**_three._ **

Joker always cranked up the A/C in his vehicles, a quirk Shepard grudgingly tolerated. Today, she was damp from falling through a fish tank, and shivering from the cold and the adrenaline drop-off. So she leaned into Kaidan, who doubled as a space heater. Their standard policy of staying professional around crew members lost out against the prospect of arguing with Joker about climate control. Kaidan didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arm around her, even dropping a kiss on her head.

He’d been worried. It would be condescending if it weren’t actually sweet. Shepard remembered enough about being part of a normal family to know that worrying about your loved ones was reflex and not based on their opinions of your capability. She had to remind herself of that sometimes.

“I see you two are rutting again.”

“You’re such a romantic, Wrex.” She snuggled closer to Kaidan. “Lines like that must get all the krogan women’s panties dropping.” Kaidan grimaced; he always did have an overactive imagination.

Wrex mumbled something under his breath about balls and ice. Shepard didn’t want to know.

They sat in silence for the drive, Joker and Brooks squabbling up front about the NavGuide and traffic law interpretations. Kaidan gripped her whenever Joker took a particularly Joker-esque turn, but he didn’t ask questions. The kiss might’ve been a bit much, but Kaidan was perceptive, and she’d needed a fast way to derail him.

Plus, it was fucking hot, him coming to her rescue like that. So sue her.

She wasn't sure what to make of what had happened. The problem wasn’t some new, exciting group of people trying to kill her. Citadel skies were blue, the Council had their heads up their cloacae, and half the galaxy wanted her dead even before the Reapers showed up and made it personal.

The problem lay in the individual elements.

When they entered the apartment, Shepard tossed the pistol on the coffee table and marched upstairs. Wrex humphed behind her. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on here?”

“Yeah, who were those guys? They were heavily armed and using C-Sec shuttles...where are you going, Shepard?”

“Getting out of these wet clothes,” she called down. She needed a moment to breathe. Time to listen past the klaxons in her mind, to hear the thoughts skittering underneath the alarms and sort out what they meant.

“I see.” There was a pause before Kaidan said, “If you need any, ah, assistance up there...”

Shepard grinned, licking her lips. “Real smooth, Alenko.”

“Are you suggesting...?” Shepard could practically see Brooks’s bug eyes turn spherical. “We just got out of...that! And I can’t believe you survived it,” Brooks added when Shepard walked downstairs in dry clothes. “They had guns! And grenades! And those drone things!”

The drones fascinated her. Most cloaking technology descended from studying geth hunters; only the salarians came up with the tech independently. Her Cerberus-built, sub-dermal tactical cloak concealed her from the naked eye and wiped her from virtually all HUDs. The Alliance had distributed cloaking tech to their infiltration teams when the Reapers hit. As a result, anti-cloaking tech was almost nonexistent, limited to high-end scoping mods, and far out of reach of most soldiers.

Shepard experimented with solutions while under house arrest on Earth, partially for her own protection and partially because picking out the subtle light distortions that indicated a cloaked target was a skill most soldiers didn’t have. The drones provided an elegant countermeasure with wider applications if crossed with other combat capabilities. Overriding their processes was a hell of a challenge mid-battle, with more brute-force application than actual hacking involved. Tali would enjoy picking one apart. Shepard relished beating a system; everything after was redundant.

That a group of mercenaries would use an anti-cloaking counter-measure to kill her made sense. Shepard took a deep breath. She had to keep her cool or Kaidan and Wrex would start asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

“It’s all right,” she told Brooks. “I’m calling Commander Bailey; see what’s going on at C-Sec.” Bailey ran an airtight ship since the coup, micromanaging to keep his mind off Earth and the Citadel safe. Had the shuttles been commandeered or legitimately accessed?

“Okay, that sounds...wait!” Brooks waved her hands like a student getting a teacher’s attention. “Wouldn’t that just make whoever you contact a target, too?”

“She’s right, Shepard,” Kaidan said. “Until we know more, it’s a big risk.”

Shepard toyed with making the call anyway, watching what fell from the tree when she shook it, but she couldn’t afford that kind of recklessness with the Reapers pressing hard on them. She scowled and powered down her omni-tool. “Fine. For now, we run this ourselves.”

“Right. Ourselves.” Brooks bobbed as she talked. “On our own. Outside the law. Okay. Yeah.”

Brooks’s agitation cranked everyone’s nerves up. “Brooks, it’s okay,” Shepard said in the most reassuring voice she could manage. “I know this is a lot to deal with.”

“I got shot!” Brooks cried, flapping her arms. “I’ve got medi-gel, but still, I took a desk job explicitly to not get shot!” _And you killed a hundred guys with a pistol!_ ”

Eighty-seven, but who was counting? “Well, yes, that did happen...”

“I mean, who does that!” She jittered as she paced the room. “Well, you, I guess. But besides you?” She paused, cocking her head to the side. “They said the medi-gel might make me jumpy. Do I seem jumpy?”

It had been easy. Falling through the restaurant floor funneled her into the catwalks above the ward’s markets. She thrived in dark corners and on high ground, so she spent much of the firefight creeping above the fray.

Then there was familiar rush of walking along high ledges, of the void below calling below. She never listened, and though the urge always passed, it stayed with her, hibernating until she reached the next rooftop or rafter. It was such an _intimate_ detail of her existence, that sense of a life spent walking across razor wire.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, refocusing on Brooks. “How did you get mixed up in this?”

“Oh!” Brooks brightened. “I monitor data for Alliance Intel to prevent fraud and hacking of officer IDs. Like someone using an admiral’s pass to get into a nightclub on the Citadel when that admiral is fighting on Tuchanka? I wrote a tracking program. It’s really neat. I named it “Mr. Biscuits” after my cat—”

“Brooks.” This was going to take forever, wasn’t it?

“Right, sorry!” She had the decency to look sheepish. “Anyway, Mr. Bis...my program detected a breach in your classified files.”

The first question that popped into Shepard’s head was ‘which ones’? She’d moved into black ops after Torfan. There were the classified files, the really classified files, and the really, really, _really_ classified files, the ones only two Fleet Admirals and four Cabinet Ministers could access.

And then there was the file Hackett alone could see.

“Soon, everything we had on you was compromised: personnel files, mission reports, _everything_.”

The emphasis on the last word sent a reflexive frisson of panic through her nervous system. Shepard schooled her expression, keeping as blank as possible.

Even if she had to operate under the assumption this asshole had _everything_ , there was a good chance that last, crucial piece escaped the net. She’d compiled the data on a unique offline terminal and handled updates via QEC and Citadel dead drops, hand-wrote the encryption program. If Hackett kept the OSDs on local systems, there’d be no data trail. Only Hackett was no tech, and Shepard was good, but she wasn’t the best.

“Since when does hacking personnel records involve heavy-weapon fire?” Wrex was ever the pragmatist. They’d come after her first, right? Hadn’t bothered with Joker. Shepard didn’t want to jump at shadows.

“Think of what criminals could do if they had Shepard’s military access codes,” Brooks said, her voice rising. “Or Spectre codes, even!”

Yeah, that was the least of her problems. Only Shepard saw a pattern that led anywhere other than killing her, and if it stayed that way, she could contain the damage. “Then I guess we’re back on the clock.”

“Hey.” Kaidan grabbed her hand. “When this is done, we’ll carve out some time—just the two of us.” He looked so damn earnest, mistaking her distraction for annoyance. She pasted on a smile, patting his hand.

She needed to control the narrative. That wasn’t the same as taking the lead. The problem with having a great team was that they liked working together. It let them accomplish bigger and better things than even Shepard could’ve imagined. It also meant they were secure in their own abilities and not afraid to call bullshit when she got pigheaded. And they loathed being left behind, if her decision to work alone with Aria T’Loak to retake Omega and the _massive_ collective shitfit her crew had thrown was indication. (Thirty percent of that might have been the nicknames. For an asari, Aria had startlingly detailed knowledge of human obscenities and pop culture.)

Shepard needed to act out of preservation, not shame. Until she could piece the elements together into a coherent whole, she couldn’t make a judgment. Best for now to kick the ball back into her team’s court. “Any ideas on where to start with these guys?”

“Maybe.” Kaidan’s gaze flicked to the gun. “Let’s look at that pistol you picked up.”

“For such a tiny thing,” Wrex commented, “it packs a punch. Never seen anything like it before.”

The M-11 Suppressor’s market version weighed a few grams less than its prototype. Shepard closed her eyes, remembering the cold light and concrete of Alliance R&D’s testing range. The moment they'd placed that pistol in her hand she’d felt the magic. It was quick, quiet, and brutal if you knew how to coax it right. A sticking issue in the barrel kept her from walking away with one that day, but even with a thermal-clip system she’d known it the moment her hand closed around the grip.

It wasn’t as if the Suppressor was the only weapon she’d tested for R&D. Most of their sniper rifle prototypes and mods passed through her hands sometime in the past ten years. She was a named developer on current-gen shield disruptor ammo.

The Suppressor, though...that had been a love affair.

“Shepard!” She snapped from her thoughts as her front door whooshed open. Liara was in high color, her eyes dark and her cheeks bright as her throat worked. She swallowed, visibly relaxing when she saw Shepard unharmed.

“Liara.” Shepard gave her what she hoped was a reassuring half-smile.

Liara surged forward, arms half-raised, before she paused and stepped back. Her head hung low, but when she lifted her chin moments later, her regular unflappable calm had returned. “I’m relieved to see you’re in one piece.”

Shepard almost stepped forward, but the asari moved her attention to the Suppressor. There’d been a distance to Liara in the past few weeks, something beyond the changes the years wrought on her. Thessia widened the gap between them, but it wasn’t the source. The first signs of it came after the Citadel coup.

 “Let me see that pistol,” she said, and Shepard hesitated for a fraction of a second before handing it over. “I might be able to help. Glyph?”

“I’ll begin collating relevant intel for review, Dr. T’Soni,” the drone chirped.

“Good. A shame about the sushi place.” Liara had a playful smile on her lips. “It was a favorite.”

“I hear that.” Shepard rubbed her neck. She’d never even heard of this damn restaurant until about two hours before she fell through their fish tank, but with Liara’s down mood after Thessia, she’d take any sign of joking, even at her own expense.

“All right, Liara’s on point.” Wrex humphed, adjusting his armor. “What about the rest of the crew?”

The doors slid open again, and Shepard stifled a flinch.

“Found some bait for you that shoots back, Commander,” Joker said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. Shepard ignored the jibe.

Garrus was at the front, with Tali, EDI, James, and Javik close behind. “Permission to come aboard, Shepard?” he asked, surveying the apartment with an appreciative gleam.

Despite herself, she smiled. “Granted.”


	3. Casino: Infiltration

**_one._ **

Liara and Brooks took point with Glyph while the rest of Shepard’s team relaxed around the apartment. Shepard lingered at the windows, turning the elements of the fight over inside her head.

EDI told her there’d been no civilian casualties, and while her climbing above the ward kept her out of harm’s way, the markets should have been full. There was no way C-Sec, as overburdened as they were now, cleared the area fast enough.

She had a hard, nasty gunfight through an urban area that let her stalk catwalks. Her opponents were some second-rate merc group with big mouths and delusions of competence that made her trigger finger itch, yet also wielded state-of-the-art counter-cloaking tech and stealth weaponry. The conclusion she’d drawn was absurd, but it felt right, and Shepard trusted that.

It was as if someone _designed_ the fight for Shepard. Not to kill her, but to _challenge_ her. Shepard doubted even Garrus could design a scenario better suited to test the limits of her strengths, and he was both her best friend and the best damn spotter she’d ever had.

Whoever did this knew her, knew how she liked to fight. Knew things about her Shepard preferred collecting dust in the dark corners of her brain.

No one knew her that well. Anyone who had died sixteen years ago, back when she’d been a different person.

The words stuck in her throat, though. _Our attacker knows how I like to kill_. Even with her crew there were things she could never say aloud.

“We have a lead,” Liara announced, and Shepard seized on that, letting the group’s momentum carry her. She saw their sidelong glances and pasted on an interested face. The itch to walk out and hunt alone was present but not yet overpowering.

C-Sec might be a good start. Her Spectre access codes would allow her to cull data from their logs. She could check the timing of the market alert, identify whoever signed off on the shuttle that the merc crew used at the Cision Motors lot.

“I called in some favors to run a trace on the gun,” Liara began, gesturing to the Suppressor with a flourish. “It led me to a casino owner named Elijah Khan. He’s been suspected of using his profits to smuggle weapons onto the Citadel. Immediately after the attempt on Shepard’s life, Khan made an interesting call.”

She eyed the Suppressor. The pistol’s trigger called to her like red sand to a junkie ten years sober: _remember when you lived for this? Remember when people were nothing but moving targets and warm bodies? Remember when it was just you, your gun, and your ghosts?_

There was no going back there, though. She learned that the hard way after Horizon.

Then again, she'd been surprised before.

Liara started the recording. Khan’s rising panic contrasted with the glass-pebble calm of the other speaker. When the voice said, “You won’t be linked to me,” it was a promise, calm and assured even after filtering through fifty kinds of obfuscation.

“Save it!” Delivered right, a smooth mien rattled even the most self-possessed adversaries. Khan was no exception. “Our association is terminated. And if you even think of coming after me, I’ve got info on your ready for prime time, so you ponder that. Khan out.”

“So that’s our identity thief.” Whatever trap the thief meant to set with his or her words, Khan slid headlong into it. “Any way to clear up the voice?”

“Not without the original terminal. ID disguisers are a pain in the ass to get around,” Garrus said, scowling at some old memory.

Shepard considered her options. Liara’s leads led to quicker results than official channels like C-Sec files. If she didn't yield anything good, she could always run additional checks later. “Whoever that voice was, Khan’s nervous enough to cut them loose. We can squeeze Khan until a contact drops out.”

“Easier said than done,” Liara said, shaking her head. “He has a panic room inside the casino. A good place to hole up. EDI can give us programs to hack the door, but the cameras and guards complicate things.”

“Yeah. Khan could disappear or worse. If his guards ever open fire, normal people could get hit.” Brooks’s eyes were cloudy, distant.  “Like I did,” she said in a small voice.

From what Shepard could tell, Brooks didn’t belong in this mess. She was jumpy, startled easily. Shepard couldn’t figure out a way to extract her without making her a possible target, though. “She’s right,” Shepard admitted. “We can’t risk spooking him. We go in quiet. Small team.” She gritted her teeth. “No gunplay.”

“Aww,” Garrus said.

Maybe no guns would take their mysterious assailant by surprise. Whoever they were, they’d be looking for buttons to push. Contacting Khan discreetly might force the assailant to change tacks and reveal something.

“Dr. T’Soni,” Glyph interjected, “tomorrow evening the casino will be hosting a charity event to assist war refugees.”

Liara looked over at Shepard, who gave the nod.  She turned back to Glyph. “Purchase some tickets, Glyph, then call up a layout of the building.”

She listened to the plans with half an ear. Her crew had a rhythm built on long experience and mutual rapport, so Shepard preferred to let them work. Kaidan had a good head for building security and schematics while EDI and Tali came at the finer technical points from different angles. Garrus talked up the projected C-Sec presence and his experience with Elanus Risk Control guards, Khan’s choice for additional security at the gala. Liara added and corrected details with knowledge gleaned from her networks.

Shepard intervened when they started arguing over who would infiltrate the vents. “What you need,” Brooks explained, “is somebody trained in zero-emissions tech. No electronics, no metal. Just undetectable polymers.”

“Easy enough,” Shepard said. In her black ops days she went zero-emissions whenever possible. The easiest way to stay off the grid was never land on it in the first place.

“Shepard, your cybernetic implants have an 84% chance of triggering the vent alarms,” EDI said.

“Seriously?” That was a buzzkill.  “When this is over, I'm calling Miranda and getting a retrofit. Not that she ever listened to any of my suggestions.”

“Perhaps you can send her another list of suggested upgrades when you do,” EDI suggested with an overly cheerful note in her voice.

Her crew was staring at her. “What?” Shepard asked.  “An internal enforcement gauntlet system would’ve been awesome, and so would an ocular laser sight.”

“Uh...sure,” Garrus said while everyone else shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, come on, laser eyes would be great at parties,” Shepard continued. “Especially since at the last party I went to I had to kill like eighty people.”

Brooks went chalk-white. “Do you just kill everyone wherever you go?”

“Hey, they started it,” Shepard said, rolling her eyes. “And if they start it, I’m going to finish it.”

“We really should get back on topic.” Liara shot a pitying glance at Brooks. “My technical expertise is limited to data streams and encryption.”

“Zero-emissions isn’t so tough,” Brooks said. “We had a course back at Op-Int, disabling a bomb with these little tweezers. See, the bomb was filled with shaving cream—”

Problem solved.

“All right.” She motioned to Brooks. “You’re up.”

“What?” Brooks went ashen, backing away from the table. “No. What?”

“You said it yourself,” Shepard said. “Well, EDI said it for me. We’ve all got too much tech.”

“But...” She huffed in protest. “I managed to get shot just coming to talk to you!” Brooks’s eyes darted around the room. Shepard hadn’t thought it was possible for them to get any bigger. “Now I’m supposed to hack my way into a safe room?”

“We’ll be backing you up,” Shepard promised her. “The second you hit something you can’t handle, we’ll cover you.” Everyone else offered Brooks encouraging smiles.

With a gulp, Brooks nodded.

“If that’s settled,” Liara said, “it looks like there’s one last hurdle to get us inside.”

“Which is?”

Liara pursed her lips. “Black tie required.”

 

 

**_two._ **

Garrus Vakarian, like most turians, was bad at shore leave. He wasn’t a good turian in the abstract, but there was a deep, Palaven-bred streak no amount of vigilante justice could erase. Since docking late last night, he’d sketched out a new schematic for the Thanix cannon’s cooling system and eked another quarter-meter out of his tech mines’ blast radius. When he tried to talk to James about upgrades for the armory’s fabrication unit, James called him a ‘goat’ and ordered Garrus to finish his beer.

Sometimes he followed Tali when she visited junk dealers in the Wards, always intrigued by how she turned odd scrap into death traps. Tonight, she, Liara, and EDI followed Shepard somewhere to do...something. Probably something frilly and asari. That was good. Even if he wanted no part in it, the distraction would be good for Tali. She hadn’t said anything, but Garrus got regular reports from Palaven. She had to be devastated.

He stayed at Shepard’s new place with Kaidan to inspect the apartment’s defenses. The basics were all in place, but there was nothing to help Shepard go on the offensive if her mysterious new assailants followed her home. He’d have to work on that.

Kaidan was edgy tonight. Pieces of his Carnifex lay strewn across the dining table, but he’d get up and pace, stopping to inspect the windows or check the front door encryption. Garrus intervened when Kaidan cleaned the clip chamber for the third time. “Shepard’s not going to like it if you get gun oil on her new carpet.”

“If she notices.” Kaidan looked up at Garrus. “I need a favor.”

“I don’t suppose you want me to help you finish the job at the Illuminated Primacy’s Glassworks?”

Kaidan grinned, the smile an unexpected crack in his strained features. “We’d have to bring Javik if we did. Did you notice Shepard acting kinda off tonight?”

“Other than the look on her face when EDI started listing shoe stores on the Citadel?” At Kaidan’s raised eyebrow, Garrus stopped to consider the question. “A little quiet at the round table. But you know Shepard. She likes letting us do all the dirty work so she can swoop in and press the big button.”

“No, not quiet.” Kaidan’s eyes moved, as if sifting through thoughts. “Troubled. Like something was bothering her.”

“She had her records hacked and then someone tried to kill her,” Garrus reminded him.

Kaidan shot him a disbelieving stare. “Garrus, Shepard once got out of the Mako to finish off a thresher maw because she was _bored_.”

That was the day they learned that thresher maw acid was flammable. Also, that Shepard might be...how had Ash put it? _Batshit insane_. She’d been giddy, and Garrus impressed, until Kaidan coldly detailed every way her actions nearly killed her ground team. That was when they learned Shepard was crap at apologies, even sincere ones.

They learned a lot that day.

“I don’t think she told us everything,” Kaidan said.

Garrus picked through Kaidan’s gun components. “Why do you say that?”

“Just a feeling.” He scrubbed his forehead. “She was weird at the car lot. Tunnel vision, until—” Kaidan flushed, and Garrus decided he’d rather not know.

“You spend more time with her than any of us, Kaidan. Why don’t you ask her?”

“Yeah, but—” Kaidan winced. “You’ve seen her over a longer period.”

He meant that Garrus was there during the Collector mission. “Are you afraid to ask her?”

“I’m not—” He cut himself off, swallowing. “Look, things are rough. She took Thessia harder than she lets on. I don’t want her thinking that I’m doubting her. I mean, I’m not doubting her. I’m not,” he insisted, to whom or what Garrus had no idea.

“I didn’t think you were.” Thessia had been hard on the entire galaxy. Asari were supposed to have all the answers, and the Reapers cut through them like a Thanix cannon through varren butter. Even turian soldiers felt the impact. Galactic morale was at an all-time low.

“And now there’s some new group after her, and if she knows something but won’t tell us, how are we supposed to help her?”

That sounded reasonable to Garrus, which made Kaidan’s distress even more confusing. He might regret asking, but...”Are you two doing okay?”

“What? No, things’ve been great. Unless Shepard’s said something?” Kaidan’s shoulders tensed, his eyes narrowing as he searched Garrus’s face.

“Not a thing.” Garrus never asked Shepard about her personal relationships. Her reaction to post-Horizon needling from other crew members was to make a ship-wide announcement that one, she was the motherfucking Butcher of Torfan and therefore comfortable with the concept of ‘acceptable loss of life,’ and two, the next person to mention the Alliance personnel member that may or may not have been on Horizon would be shot. Miranda Lawson, of all people, braved the bullets and broke the embargo. There had also been a conversation with Grunt about the human idiom ‘motherfucker’ that no amount of horosk could wipe from his brain.

The point was, Garrus didn’t go there. Liara was better at that stuff anyway.

Kaidan released a sigh, his body relaxing. “That’s good. We agreed to let bygones be bygones, and we have, but with all the pressure from the war...I don’t want to rock the boat.”

“I’d hope not,” Garrus said. “Rocking a boat is a felony on Palaven.” Kaidan scooted his chair away from Garrus, prompting him to explain, “Turians developed air travel before water travel. We really don’t like large bodies of water.”

“Noted.” Kaidan said. “Look, you still have contacts in C-Sec, right?  Maybe you could find out who signed out the shuttle those mercs were on. My Spectre access codes should let you break through any firewalls—” Garrus suppressed the coil of envy in his gut, “—but if she catches on, it’ll be easier if it looked like you came to me. She’ll just assume you’re following another lead.”

“Why not ask Liara?”

 “Liara’s great. She’s done so much for Shepard, for all of us.” Kaidan was prefacing, his posture agitated. “But you know how she is when she gets involved.”

“Right.” It was one thing to work with Liara _for_ Shepard. It was another thing to work with Liara _around_ Shepard. She’d insist on solving an issue that Kaidan wasn’t sure even existed yet. That would complicate things. Then again, this was already too complicated for Garrus. “Are you sure you shouldn’t just ask Shepard?”

“But if she—” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Could you just do it?”

Sometimes human interactions made Garrus itch. He admired, even imitated, their initiative, but they rivaled salarians for backbiting and doublespeak.

Maybe that was the months back on Palaven talking. Questioning the commanding officer was never done on turian ships. To do so insulted not just the officer, but also the leaders who put them there.

Tali had laughed when he first told her that. “How can your people not question their leaders?” she'd demanded between giggles. “Leaders are always doing stupid things!”

Questions like that, and watching Shepard save the galaxy despite its best efforts to stop her, landed him on Omega. He’d learned there what it meant to lead without someone watching your six.

Garrus couldn’t ignore the lick of relief when he'd flown away from Palaven on the Normandy, as if Shepard could watch all of Palaven’s six. So if Kaidan was trying to watch Shepard’s six, then Garrus would help.

“Send me the info,” Garrus said, hoping he didn’t regret it.

 

**_three._ **

The lights had cycled into the sleep setting when Shepard made her way to the apartment. She kept her tread light, struck by a silence without the hum of a drive core or a ventilation system whirring.

Was this how normal people lived before the Reapers?

She knew the answer to that. The problem with growing up in a happy civilian family was that she was just well-adjusted enough to recognize how incredibly fucked-up she’d become. She couldn’t even hide behind ‘My Culture and/or Shitty Childhood Made Me Do It’ like most of her crew. The girl she’d been before the raid had been loved, without hesitation, reserve, or conditions, and if she’d been too much of a teenager to appreciate it then, Shepard recognized it now. It made her an oddity on the SSV Daddy Issues, and it made everything that came _after_ so much starker.

As much as she longed to go to bed, Shepard hated trying to sleep when her mind ventured into the past more. Instead, she sat down to complete her follow-up tasks.

She got a hit on the records she’d had pulled from C-Sec, confirming someone used her Spectre access codes around the same time Brooks ordered the C-Sec shuttle to the Cision Motors lot. The search VI logged dozens of other suspicious entries, the oldest going back six hours before the attack. She’d pick through those when her eyes weren’t crossing. Unless they yielded something, her only other option would be a phone call to Bailey.

Her Alliance inquiry also came back. Shepard opened the file, and there was Maya Brooks, as narrated by the Systems Alliance: an only child from a still-rural region of the Midwest (probably not yet overrun by Reapers), a half-scholarship to MIT courtesy of the Alliance’s talent initiative, and graduation in 2179 before heading to Washington DC for Op-Int training. Six years in Colonial Affairs, a transfer to her current division two months before the Reapers hit. Colonial Affairs worked out of DC, so there’d be no calling for references. Otherwise everything else looked clean, although an error that almost landed a marine platoon on a gas planet was noted in her file.

That relieved her somewhat, but Shepard couldn’t shake the prickling down her spine, the vague sense of violation. This merc attack be messing with her head so much. Plenty of other, worse things had tried – beacons, Cerberus, Reapers – but _this_ was watching her own heart beat outside her chest. The wrongness of _this_ was peculiar and precise.

Shepard thumped her forehead on the terminal. Working with a security breach the size of a Mako was dangerous, and her eyes kept closing of their own volition. She knew when to stage a tactical retreat.

Kaidan stirred when Shepard sat down on the bed, well-trained by nights she tiptoed in late. He mumbled incoherently as his arms dragged her closer. Shepard flipped to face him, his eyes cracking open as his palm splayed on her back, his finger strolling down her spine.

“Hey,” she said, brushing a few tousled curls off his face, and he gave her a sleepy smile. Sometimes it frightened her how easily she could get used to this, how seductive the thought of holing up somewhere for the next fifty years could be. The voices that drove her, the gruesome fate of a dead empire, lost their power in these quiet hours.

“Never did finish what we started at the car lot,” Shepard whispered. “Seeing you in action was pretty hot.”

He chuckled, more of a rumble in his half-awake state. “Why thank you.”

She pressed a quick, playful kiss to his lips. “What would I do without you?”

Kaidan’s eyes opened fully, whiskey-brown catching in the weak light.  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’ll never find out.”

_Damn it._

She forced down her reaction but it bled out around the edges, the sharp intake of breath, the stiffening of her spine. Sometimes Shepard wondered if Mars knocked loose more than Kaidan’s implants, because words like that fell from his lips so often now, and she couldn’t pretend away the shining sincerity of them anymore. Somehow it was easier back when she divined his meaning from coded messages and awkward fumbles. Easier when _love_ was an accusation thrown in her face.

Kaidan eyes dimmed. He pulled his hand off her cheek, rested it between them. It wasn’t fair to Kaidan that she flinched when he promised her forever, that her heart rocked shut at the mere suggestion. Shepard told him Horizon and Mars were behind them, and she meant it, but where his barriers had fallen, hers flared higher.

“Hey,” he said, concerned. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay, because in her mind she walked those catwalks, leaning over the edge, wondering for a crazy second what would happen if she jumped. Not died, jumped. Shepard knew it would end in a chalk outline, but maybe that was all she was meant to be.

“Shepard?” He sounded almost frightened now.

She came back to herself, and kissed him, losing her troubles in the lines of him. You could say everything with a kiss, or say nothing at all.

 

 

**_four._ **

Liara lost count of the evenings she lay on her mother’s bed as Benezia dressed for parties and political salons. Benezia’s handmaidens fluttered about to assist, setting out jewelry, making last minute adjustments, brushing eezo over her mother’s gleaming cheeks. With an unread book in front of her, Liara would watch as her sweet mother transformed into the Matriarch Benezia for her supplicants.

Yet Matriarch Benezia never failed to plant a kiss on Liara’s cheek and tell her Little Wing to fly to bed.

Those soft, warm rooms in her memories were likely shorn in half by Reaper guns. It was a wound Liara could barely approach, burning flesh and eezo, black shapes slashing the sky, the keening of her people.

Was that how Shepard had felt sixteen years ago on Mindoir?

There were better ways to spend her time. She could count refugee shuttles and supply ships, scan her omni-tool for updates from her information feeds, coax scraps of Prothean history out of Javik on the off-chance some detail would lead them to a Crucible breakthrough. Instead, she sat on Shepard’s bed, watching her prepare for Elijah Khan’s gala.

Benezia once told Liara that in peace, the galaxy was vast and open, but war made it a small place. Perhaps her mind, overwhelmed by the loss of her homeworld and the dark truth behind asari superiority, rested upon Shepard.

Shepard was no Benezia, accepting her due. She yelled at her hair dryer and scuttled about half-naked, rummaging about for whatever she misplaced. Liara understood now why Kaidan opted to get ready in another room; twice she’d nearly been the victim of haphazardly tossed objects. Despite the chaos, Liara was entranced.

Shepard applied her own makeup with a practiced hand. Liara was surprised; she assumed she would have to assist. It wasn’t the only surprise of the past day. “I still can’t believe you have a direct line to an Armali couturier.”

“Alathea T’Gonn offered to tailor my dress blues for the medal ceremony after Sovereign. I had no idea she was such a big deal.” Shepard’s hand was pistol-steady as she applied her eyeliner, looking much as she did when a target landed in her sights. “And she said I was her muse for her Spring 2184 collection? I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It was a beautiful collection.” Liara owned a coat from that season. She’d thought of Shepard every time she wore it, never knowing why. How had she not known?

“I try not to endorse crap.” She craned her neck, inspecting an invisible flaw. “Despite what you hear from every kiosk on the Citadel. I’m glad she made it off Thessia, and not just because the only thing I had in my closet other than my dress blues was a black cocktail dress with an N7 logo.”

“No,” Liara agreed, eyeing the lines of the gown. “This is far more tasteful. You know, you’re more capable in these matters than I expected.”

Shepard raised a freshly-waxed eyebrow. “What, girl stuff?” She moved on to mascara. “Hair, clothes, makeup – they’re just another type of armor.”

“Do you ever take your armor off, Shepard?” Liara cut her curiosity with a teasing tone.

Shepard shrugged, the question glancing off her naked back. "Why bother? I can't even go to dinner without a mercenary company trying to kill me."

“A fair point,” Liara conceded, and returned to watching in silence.

“All right.” Shepard pivoted as if on a platform, still adjusting to wearing heels. “Time to get me into this thing.”

Shepard didn’t want a crowd in the room with her, but the long row of buttons in back was too fine for any species with fewer than five fingers to fasten. Liara was the default choice for the task. She helped Shepard step into the gown, closing the top button. Her fingers slowed over Shepard’s skin.

Liara’s breath hitched.

Shepard had been kind to her, even in breaking Liara’s heart, but she had also been clear. Their friendship hinged on Liara never crossing the boundary Shepard drew on the SR-1. Beyond that, burdening her with lingering (or undaunted) emotions was unfair. In recent weeks, however, her heart refused to be quelled.

As the Shadow Broker, Liara knew enough of Shepard to know that kindness had not always been her way. Many would say it still wasn’t, but Shepard had a code as strict as any Justicar’s buried in her convoluted works, one kinder than the galaxy had a right to expect. Liara hated that she could never approach Shepard to tell her that, but the ways large and small in which Shepard erased her own past spoke volumes. If Shepard wished to keep her secrets, then Liara would keep silent.

It would be delightful, though, to tell Shepard how proud Liara was of her. Perhaps Shepard didn’t need to hear it. Perhaps Kaidan told her instead.

Liara’s fingers drifted over Shepard’s sienna skin. _Brown_ , Shepard would insist, and say the same of her sable eyes and hair, but Liara saw colors so much richer in Shepard than that prosaic word conveyed.

You get lost back there, T’Soni?” Shepard asked.

More than she knew. “My apologies.” Liara resumed her work, controlling her rebellious hands. “There are quite a lot of these.”

Shepard snickered, jostling Liara’s hands. “Yeah, I think ‘couture’ is an ancient human word for ‘pain in the ass.’”

“And yet worth the effort.” Liara’s fingers came to the top. “There. Now let’s see.”

She spun around, and Liara’s heart stuttered. Shepard still looked like Shepard, not as Liara knew her, but as she might have been: kohl-swept eyes and shimmering lips, contours and a hairstyle so fragile it looked ready to tumble down her shoulders at any moment. Shepard, if her worlds hadn’t kept burning. Shepard, if unburdened by the galaxy crashing down around her.

Dark energy piled in Liara’s throat.

“You look lovely.” Liara averted her eyes.

“Thanks, Liara.” Shepard absorbed the comment like everything else. She rustled her skirts, studying her reflection.

"How do you feel?"

“Weird? I...” Shepard’s mouth twisted. “I used to fantasize about getting off Mindoir. Small-colony girl in the Big Citadel, like in the vids? Fabulous apartment, hot boyfriend, great clothes...” She glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror, lost in old ghosts. “Didn’t quite get there the way I expected.”

Shepard’s tone was careful, neutral, but Liara knew her well enough to sense pain threaded through the words. Shepard as she should have been. As they all should have been, Liara supposed. They had all been betrayed by the galaxy in ways large and small.

“Well, you’ll be the...what is the human expression? The belle of the ball,” Liara assured her.

Shepard grinned at her, placing her hand on Liara’s shoulder. Warmth arced down her arm. “Couldn’t have done it without you, T’Soni. As usual.”

Liara doubted that. She stepped away, cutting the connection. “Your gloves are on the desk.”

Goddess, how foolish she was.

Shepard moved slowly down the steps, whether for dramatic effect or fear of her heels Liara couldn’t tell. James wolf-whistled. Joker followed up with a mock cat-call, then an “Ow!” when EDI elbowed his ribs. Wrex muttered something about looking too asari.

“You look like a...what is the word? Starlet? From one of your people’s ancient vids,” Tali gushed. Garrus flexed his mandibles, perplexed.

“Your ceremonial dress looks flimsy,” Javik informed Shepard, but he didn’t sneer, which Liara took as good progress.

Shepard sighed ruefully. “T'Gonn said sewing in a ballistic lining would ‘ruin the lines of the dress.’”

Kaidan had the most vivid reaction. He flushed pink, unable to rip his eyes away. “You look, uh...yeah. You look.”

Shepard bloomed under his gaze, soft and a touch unsteady; her tentative half-smile exposed doubts Liara never envisioned. Then her eyes sparked bright, a glow lighting her from within. Liara turned away, unsettled by the gravity of their regard. Most of their friends did the same.

Liara could tell Shepard she was lovely, but she couldn’t make Shepard feel lovely the way Kaidan could. It was an old ache, sharper than usual, but all her aches were more since Thessia. Perhaps that was why Shepard affected her so deeply as of late.

Unrequited love was a petty complaint in such dark days, but Shepard always was Liara’s small place.

When Shepard recovered, Liara felt as if she’d been released from a stasis field. “Smooth, Alenko. Did you practice that one while I was getting dressed?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of time on my hands with how long you took up there,” Kaidan countered, falling back into comfortable banter.

Shepard smirked. “I’d kiss you quiet, but then I’d screw up my lipstick.”

“You can make it up to me later,” Kaidan teased, and then the room was uncomfortable for a new set of reasons.

“Oh,” Brooks sighed, stamping her foot. “Why do you look so much prettier than me?”

“Armali couture,” Shepard said. “Besides, you’re not supposed to attract attention tonight. You’re like my bridesmaid, Brooks. You’re there to make me look better in comparison.”

“I’ll remember that if you ever ask me to be a bridesmaid,” Tali remarked.

“And _you_.” Shepard leaned into Kaidan, her gaze perusing him. She jabbed an elbow into his side, and Liara cringed for Shepard’s gloves. “You clean up damn nice. You can pull out a thesaurus to describe my overpowering beauty in the car.”

“I’ve got a few words for your overpowering ego,” Kaidan muttered, but his eyes were still a touch glazed.

Shepard turned to Liara. “We ready?”

“Of course.” As if she had to ask.

She turned back to Kaidan, tucking her hand into his arm. “Then let’s go crash a party.”

“It’s not really crashing if you’re invited, Shepard...”

Liara watched them leave, the team dispersing, settling in for the long wait. She remained a while longer, gathering her thoughts. Then, she sat with EDI, Glyph trailing behind, and they prepared for the real work of the night.

“Can you hear me, Liara?” Shepard asked over the comm.

“I’m here, Shepard,” Liara promised.

Liara had Shepard’s secrets, and Shepard’s ear. She would content herself with that.

 

 

**_five._ **

If there was one way that quarians were superior to all other races in the galaxy, it was their ability to appreciate what every other race took for granted. Well, that and relative fleet size, but it was the former that sustained the quarian people's souls through 300 years of exile. Being quarian taught Tali to appreciate open spaces, diverse neighborhoods, and first-run vids.

It also magnified the drawbacks. Her people cherished intimacy in ways the other races could never appreciate. Living locked inside suits elevated poetry and music to new heights, encouraged emphatic body language and grand gestures. It made the mere touching of skin to skin unbelievably erotic. Shepard and Kaidan had no idea how potent searing gazes and stolen breath could be, because they could _touch_ each other.

_Would have it hurt more or less if she’d linked suits with Kal before he died?_

Tali scowled at that maudlin thought. Why mourn what never happened? They shared each other’s Nerve-Stim programs _once_. There was no great love story because their story ended with her exile from the Fleet. So what if Auntie Raan thought to call and tell her the news? And so what she’d cried, for a good man, a good soldier? That was all. And so what if he...?

She stuck her tongue out, fiddling with an upgrade to Chatika. Garrus suggested she could safely integrate a rocket launcher, and while she needed to adapt his proposed schematics to her drone, the initial results were promising.

“Need some calibrating done?”

Garrus stood in the doorway, hands behind his back, head tipped up to see her over her drone. _Calibrations_ always sounded a bit filthy in his rumbling flanged voice.

“If I do, Garrus,” Tali said, “you’ll be the first person I ask.”

“Good to know.” He rocked back on his heels. “I found a shop near here that sells that sweet cream paste you like. The one with the berries?”

“You hate that stuff. You say it smells sickly.”

“Yeah, but...” His mandibles flared a bit. “You like it.”

That was the other problem. What decent love story had the heroine’s heart moving another direction even _before_ the hero died? If Kal was the hero. Which he wasn’t.

And Garrus was...there wasn’t a polite way to say it. He was terrible at flirting. Tali knew years of romance vids with her girlfriends at sleepovers overinflated her expectations about relationships, but Garrus was _abysmal_. So while Tali appreciated the gesture, there was about a 50% chance he thought of it because he needed something from her. Not a bribe so much as two geth with one energy blast.

She sat up, patting the bed. “What do you need, Garrus?”

“Now can’t I just get you something because it’s nice?” Garrus asked, accepting her invitation. He held out the container of cream paste. “But...yeah, I could use your help.”

 _Keelah_. Tali’s visor dropped in her hands. She muted the microphone on her suit to groan aloud in peace.

“So...that’s a no?” Garrus inched away from her.

“Oh, give me that.” Tali snatched her treat from his talons. “Now, what favor do you need?”

“Actually, it’s for Kaidan.” Garrus waited, as if expecting Tali to toss him out. Reminding Garrus _he_ was the one who’d ranted about Kaidan’s “dereliction of duty” during the Collectors mission would be petty. “He wants to follow a different lead.”

“Didn’t Glyph and Liara already go through all the possible leads?”

“Not exactly,” Garrus said. “Liara couldn’t run as deep an investigation into C-Sec without setting off flags. They have additional security steps, and they log everything, even for Spectres. Normally, we’d call Bailey and tell him to ignore it, but Shepard’s worried that could set Bailey up as a potential target of our identity thief. Same reason Liara didn’t call her contacts directly. Kaidan wants to figure out why a C-Sec shuttle was full of CAT-6 mercs.”

Tali tinkered with a loose wire. “That’s a good idea, but why didn’t he take it to Shepard?”

Garrus shifted in his armor, drawing out the pause. “He thinks Shepard’s hiding something.”

“Oh, that ridiculous _bosh’tet_ —”

“Tali, _listen_.” Garrus had a hand on her arm, holding her in her spot. “It wasn’t like that. He was worried, not suspicious, okay?”

“Liara said that about Mars,” Tali pointed out, a bit surly.

“It was different,” Garrus said, with the frustrated patience of a grownup speaking to a surly child. “I’m pretty sure it was. There was a lot of rambling, and he’s right that Shepard’s been quiet.”

“That could be Thessia. Or the high heels.”

“Or he’s right.”

She wasn’t sure what her trouble was with Kaidan. Back on the SR-1, he and Engineer Adams made her feel welcome when many of the human crew looked askance at her every time anything went missing.

When she came aboard the Normandy before Rannoch, she’d vowed to treat Kaidan with respect unless he gave her a reason to act otherwise. He hadn’t, and it had been good, talking with him again. Yet for past couple weeks, she couldn’t shake a desire to snap whenever he opened his mouth. “You just like him because he actually listens when you talk about calibrations.”

“Right, and you don’t needle him about his Logic Arrest on purpose.” Garrus smirked at her. “Look, are you going to help? Because I could go to EDI but then I’ll have to spend six hours debating over keeping it from Shepard and there’d still be a 50/50 chance she’d blab. I mean, she’d do it faster, but—”

Tali liked EDI. That did not mean Tali appreciated having her hacking abilities compared to a synthetic’s. “Don’t you dare, Garrus Vakarian. I’ll do it.”

“Great.” Garrus’s eyes were suspiciously bright. Tali made a mental note to check Garrus’s face against the turian entry for ‘sly’ on the Alien Expressions extranet site later. “Back when I first joined Shepard’s team on the Normandy, C-Sec reclassified me as on special assignment. I still had all my old access and privileges. Even after I left for good, they never changed it.”

“That’s odd.” Tali opened her omni-tool and sorted through the data, probing the C-Sec Employee Intranet site.

“People get lazy, or maybe my dad intervened. It stayed that way all through the Collectors’ mission, but after I came back to Palaven and my standing in the meritocracy...changed, they marked me as inactive.”

“What is your new standing?” She had a bet with James that Garrus had ten turians or fewer standing between him and a Primacy.

Garrus scratched his crest. “Uh...that’s not important right now.”

“I just want to know what kind of title lets you call the Primarch of Palaven by his first name,” Tali said in her most innocent voice. She wished she could bat her eyelashes at him. Well, she could, but he wouldn’t see. Or maybe that only worked on humans. She needed to reread her turian courting ritual guide.

“I served under Adrien during my second tour,” Garrus replied, looking away from Tali.

“You don’t even call _Shepard_ by her first name,” Tali said with a giggle. Then, “Wait, does Shepard even have a first name?”

“Uh, yeah.” Garrus scratched his fringe. “Kaidan told it to me once, but I forgot. She hates it for some reason.”

Tali wouldn’t have accepted that explanation about anyone but Shepard. She was a true friend, but she was odd, even for a human.

“So, if you could go back in and flip my status back to special assignment, I can go through C-Sec’s shuttle logs without setting off any of the security Vis—”

“Done,” Tali announced.

“—and check for...wait, seriously? Spirits, C-Sec security is atrocious.”

Tali shot Garrus a warning look. “Or maybe I’m just that good?”

For once he took the hint. “Sure. You’re the best. Better than EDI.” Garrus’s omni-tool flared to life. Tali wanted to preen a bit, but Garrus was already pouring over data. “Okay, we’re looking for C-Sec transportation logs...”

“I could send you a program that would let you sort through the data faster.”

“Too risky. C-Sec can’t afford to plug all the holes with the Reapers breathing down the Citadel’s necks, so they chose to make the system more transparent. Everything’s logged.”

“A paper trail,” Tali said aloud, thinking of the term humans used. “You said even Spectre access would leave a trail?”

“Huh?” Garrus looked up from his omni-tool. “Why would I search for that?”

“Oh, Keelah.” Tali sighed. “Kaidan doesn’t care about who ordered the shuttle full of mercenaries. He cares that Shepard cares.”

“What exactly are you getting — oh, here we are.” His jaw hardened. “You’re right. Shepard accessed these logs last night. I recognize her Spectre code. She made it part of a wider search. Huh, this is weird. It looks like Shepard accessed this twice.”

“What? Send me the data.” Tali's omni-tool pinged. She called up Garrus’s search, scanning the information. On a hunch, she set it to cross-reference the timeline EDI compiled of the first attack. “The person who ordered the original shuttle used Shepard’s Spectre access codes to authorize the order.”

Garrus’s head cocked. “I don’t think Shepard ordered her own hit.”

“Well, she does like excitement,” Tali pointed out.

“If she wants excitement, she can go argue philosophy with Harbinger. So this is a dead end?”

“Not exactly.” Tali closed her omni-tool. “The name of the C-Sec officer who used Shepard’s codes is Kate Ridgefield. Sound familiar?”

Garrus stroked his chin. “She was killed during Cerberus’s coup.”

“I think the original order was input into C-Sec’s transportation database locally. The Spectre access confirmation wasn’t added until added until later. We might be able to pull video logs from C-Sec control and get a face.”

“Not without setting off all those alarms.” Garrus sighed. “So it’s definitely a dead end.”

“No,” Tali said. “Kaidan wants to know if Shepard is conducting her own investigation. The answer is yes. Take him what we learned.”

“Still wish we could get an ID on who issued the order,” Garrus said. “Don’t think we could fool the system remotely, though.”

“Well, if you’d like, I could change my head scarf, get arrested by C-Sec, and find the terminal,” Tali offered. She wasn’t kidding.

Garrus gave her an odd, bewildered expression. “Um, won’t they recognize you as the quarian ambassador?”

“People don’t really look at quarians, Garrus,” Tali said with a soft, frustrated little huff. “If I changed my suit enough even my friends would be confused.”

“I wouldn’t.” Garrus had his mouth set in a hard little line, his mandibles quivering.

Tali patted his hand. “That’s very sweet, Garrus, but...”

“Of course I’d know you, Tali. No matter what you did with your suit.”

The thing about liking someone who was really, really bad at flirting, Tali found, was that when they stumbled on to the right words, you couldn’t doubt them for an instant.

Tali fumbled, wanting Garrus to know how much his words meant, when Liara walked into the room, her face grave. “Liara?”

“Change of plans,” she said, shaking her head. “Elijah Khan is dead.”

“Things got that hot?” Garrus asked. “Now I am sorry I missed it.”

“He was dead before Shepard reached him. Shepard, Kaidan, and Brooks are on their way back now. Let’s be ready when they arrive.”

 

 

**_six._ **

When they got back to the apartment, Shepard strode ahead of Kaidan and Brooks, flipping Khan’s hard drive in her palm. She lobbed it to EDI.

“Analyze that,” she ordered, and EDI’s synthetic reflexes worked in contrast to her perplexed face. Brooks gave him one of her hapless, wide-eyed glances, but Kaidan wasn’t in the mood to deal with her jittering. He walked after Shepard, intending to corner her in the bedroom.

“Shepard?” Garrus caught her wrist in his talons.

“Need to get out of these things before I break an ankle, Vakarian.” She shrugged him off, never breaking her stride. The bedroom door slammed behind her.

“I think you were on to something, Kaidan,” Garrus remarked. He and Tali exchanged glances.

Kaidan stared at the door, feeling like a dog put out in the yard for the night. “Yeah, it was a hell of a party. Maybe not so fun for the host.”

“Did something happen _other_ than Khan dying?” Tali asked, looking at him suspiciously. Kaidan bit back a defensive retort.

The crazy thing was, they’d been having fun.

He’d found a word in the car ( _radiant_ ), and she laughed in that way she laughed when she wanted to dismiss him as cheesy but couldn’t. Shepard still danced as if she were having a full-body seizure, and sure, he wasn’t much better, but together they always found a rhythm. Naïve to think that a night on the town would fix all their problems, whether that was mercs or the walls that he couldn’t quite breach, but there’d been moments he saw light through cracks. He didn’t know where it went wrong.

No, that wasn’t true. Kaidan knew the precise moment it went wrong. What he didn’t know was _why_.

Liara scuttled upstairs, bold enough to knock.

“I’m changing,” Shepard called in a sour sing-song through the door.

Liara, undaunted, knocked again. “Not even you have the dexterity to get out of that dress without assistance, Shepard.”

The door swung open. Liara stepped inside to assist, and Shepard spotted him standing with Tali and Garrus. She squinted at all three of them.

Damn. Even with all those buttons, Kaidan had been looking forward to that part.

“Disappointed?” Garrus asked.

“Er...” Kaidan registered that Tali knew what was going on. “You told her?”

“Was I not supposed to? I ran into some problems, and Tali can keep a secret.”

“And _you_ wouldn’t have your information without me,” Tali said. She put her hands on her hips.

Kaidan didn’t like it, but if Tali was doing favors for Garrus on Kaidan’s behalf, then whatever hostility had crept between he and Tali couldn’t be that bad. Maybe it was a good sign? Either way, they deserved answers. Kaidan motioned for them to follow him to the spare bedroom. He shut the door behind them, raking his hands through his hair. “Did you find anything?” he asked, hoping for some good news.

“You go first,” Garrus said, leaning back against the desk. Tali matched his posture against the far wall.

“When we found Khan, Shepard went through his comm and discovered the system hadn’t been wiped. She spoke to the thief.”

“So what happened?” Tali asked.

How did you explain what you didn’t understand? Kaidan struggled to work out the words in his mind, before relenting and opening his omni-tool’s audio log. He circled the playback button for a moment, uncertain why he stalled.

 _‘Elijah,’_ their mystery villain drawled.  _‘Come crawling back?’_

_‘Guess again.’_

_‘You.’_ The vehemence, the hate, jammed into that word sent the same jolt through his gut as it did the first time.

 _‘Yeah, me.’_ She’d still been cocky, leaning on the desk, crossing her arms. _‘Your little stunt with the fish tank didn’t kill me after all.’_

_‘Is that what you think I was trying to do?’_

_‘They weren’t delivering a candygram.’_

_‘Are you saying it wasn’t good for you?’_

Shepard had paused. Brief, but when she came back her voice wasn't quite as breezy as before. _‘If that’s your idea of foreplay, then I can’t wait to show you the main event.  Name a time and a place, unless you want to hide behind voice disguisers for the rest of your life?’_

_‘If you’re trying to rattle me so I slip up, don’t bother.  You’ll get your blood soon enough.’_

There. She’d tensed up over the course of the conversation, but that was when her blood drained, her studied battle arrogance wiped clean and replaced with a barrier he could never breach. 

_‘Why do this?  What did I do to you?’_

_‘Don’t worry. When you’re hanging out on the ledge, you’ll know exactly who to blame.’_

 After that, Shepard had been granite. Kaidan poked at the edges as they rode to the apartment, but Shepard yielded nothing.

“What’s a candygram?” Tali asked, her head tilted to listen.

“Not relevant,” he replied, shutting off the audio. “Whatever’s been bothering Shepard, that call made it worse.”

“Huh,” Garrus said. “I wouldn’t have thought that a sushi restaurant was a fun place for a firefight, but with that glass floor...”

“But still not as fun as the hanar glass store?” Kaidan asked.

Garrus wiped his eye. “Brings me to tears just thinking about it.”

Kaidan laughed, appreciating the much-needed distraction. “Guess it’s your turn now.”

Garrus popped his omni-tool open. “You were right. Shepard accessed C-Sec records.”

Kaidan took a shaky breath. “Not sure that makes me feel better. Did you have any trouble?”

“Not with me helping.” Tali stood up a bit straighter, pulling her shoulders back. “I didn’t even need Spectre authorization.”

“That’s a relief.” Now that they were clear, he debated telling them the truth. “I...wasn’t entirely sure my access codes would work.”

Tali and Garrus glanced at each other, confusion written on both their faces. “Why not?”

How to explain this without making things worse? “The Council didn’t really...pick me.” Kaidan rubbed his neck. “Udina did. I was a compromise they worked out to keep him from pulling Alliance patrols off the Citadel to send to Earth. It didn’t bother me at the time. I mean, Shepard got appointed as a political concession, and look how much she’s done. But after the coup...”

“They blame you?” Tali's anger vibrated through her suit speakers. That was a surprise, given her cool attitude towards him recently, but quarians were sensitive about unjust Council machinations.

“It’s not like that,” he assured them. Humanity hadn’t known how the Spectre selection process worked from the inside. “Spectre candidates are tied to the Councilor who pushed for them, especially if the Councilor and the candidate are the same species. It’s more like guilt by association.”

“Shepard didn’t have to go through that, because there wasn't a human Councilor,” Garrus finished. Tali scoffed.

He pointed at Garrus. “Exactly. She was nominated by a turian Spectre, and got the job by uncovering a corrupt turian Spectre, which put Councilor Sparatus on the defensive. I guess he was the primary roadblock to her appointment.”

When Udina first approached him, Kaidan agreed because he wanted to serve. Not even serving under Shepard on the SR-1 prepared him for the Council backbite after the Council confirmed the link between Udina and Cerberus. Tevos gave him the politispeak equivalent of ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you,’ and left him to his own devices.

Kaidan of all people understood caution around anything associated with Cerberus, but it still frustrated him when the Councilors demanded to see Shepard every time he filed a report on her behalf. There weren’t enough hours in an elcor day for everything the galaxy threw at her. Small wonder Shepard told the Council to shove it up their cloacae when they first offered to reinstate her as a Spectre last year.

“Whoever ordered the C-Sec shuttle with all the mercenaries already had Shepard’s Spectre access codes,” Tali said, hoping to get things back on track. “Those wouldn’t have been easy to get. Garrus and I only recognized them through their C-Sec encryption because we’ve seen them used so many times.”

“All her channels had been hacked,” Kaidan said. He began to pace. “The alarm that went off in the Wards when Shepard used her codes must’ve been when they got access.”

Garrus's mandibles flared. "Didn't Brooks order a shuttle for Shepard?"

“Brooks checks out. First thing I did.” Kaidan opened his omni-tool, scanning the data Tali sent him. “So you hit a dead end?”

“No,” Tali snapped. “Garrus said you told him not to trigger C-Sec monitors. If we accessed the servers locally, we could still find out who put in the order without an alert.”

“Because a Spectre, the quarian ambassador, and Garrus Vakarian walking into C-Sec wouldn’t set off any flags,” Kaidan said dryly.

“You’re the one who gave us that restriction, Kaidan. _I_ offered a solution.”

Kaidan rubbed at a throbbing vein in his forehead. Whatever Tali’s problem was with him, it would have to wait until the current crisis was over. Once it was, he wouldn’t let her keep up her passive-aggressive game.

“We can come back to that if EDI doesn’t find anything,” Garrus suggested, in a rare turn as peacemaker. “By the way, what’s Shepard’s first name?”

“Huh?” That was an abrupt topic change.

“Shepard’s first name,” Tali echoed. “She does have one, right?”

“Alliance records list it as Jane,” Kaidan said, “but don’t call her that.”

“Why not?”

Kaidan shrugged. “She doesn’t like it.”

He’d called her Jane once, the first night they slept together after the Battle of the Citadel. He would never forget the look on her face: confusion, with a drop of anger, as if he’d called out some other woman’s name. Though she recovered fast, she stopped to correct him. When he’d asked her why, she’d asked him if she could call him K, and they’d both agreed to drop it.

It was hard, sometimes, not to think about the holes in Shepard’s past. She meted out scraps about her childhood on an intermittent basis, guarding the non-classified details of her past as carefully as the classified ones.

He asked her one time about the years between the raid and enlisting with the Alliance. She simply said, “Lost,” the word imbued with an old grief. She righted herself so fast Kaidan still wondered if he’d truly seen it.

He tried not to think about it because when he did, he couldn’t stop. When Shepard collided with him back on Horizon, Kaidan spent countless hours afterward asking how the Shepard he’d loved could work for Cerberus, only to realize how few hard facts about Shepard he had. It was easier, back then, to assume he’d never known her at all.

“I guess it’s just another great Shepard mystery,” Garrus remarked, dismissing the topic.

“You don’t think it’s strange?” Tali asked Garrus.

“Of course I think it’s strange. No offense, Kaidan, but humans are strange.”

“The name thing’s pretty strange for humans, too,” Kaidan commented, “but none taken.”

It didn’t matter now. He’d put all that aside when he rejoined the Normandy, accepted she’d done what she had to do to save humanity. If Shepard scrimped on details about her past, Kaidan still saw the woman beneath the Commander. He saw her throw datapads (and received apology kisses that time he walked in just as she’d flung one crotch-height  at the door). He was there when, three nights after the Battle for Rannoch, she needed to tell him everything about Legion right at that moment, about discovering a _geth_ had mourned her. He held her hair back when, after Thessia, she walked up to their cabin and emptied her stomach.

All his questions could wait until after the war. For now, he was there for her any way he could be. He couldn’t suppress the hurt at her guarded behavior, though. Not when he no longer had a way out.

There was a knock on the door, and then Shepard walked in, dressed in her usual N7 hoodie and fatigues. “We got a hit,” she said, her eyes sliding over the three of them. “It’s time to hit back.”


	4. Citadel Archives: Escape

**_one._ **

Before tonight, Shepard had never heard of the Citadel Archives. They wound beneath the Presidium floor, a total of 42.4 kilometers if laid end to end. Glyph tracked the thief’s use of her Spectre access codes, giving them live data to plan their breach.

They found a spot in the lower wards’ market district within the C-Sec barricade that dovetailed with the thief’s projected trajectory. Unfortunately, there were no nearby access points. Unfortunately for the floor, that was. Shepard had no problem creating her own door.

“Are we sure blowing up part of the ward isn’t overkill?” Kaidan asked as Shepard wired up her portion of the explosives.

“The closest door puts us an extra 150 meters behind our thief and on the Citadel grid.” Shepard inspected her work, touching up the polymer explosive she’d wedged been the floor panels.

“Yeah, but we lose the element of surprise the moment the explosives go off,” Kaidan protested. “If we hacked through the doors—”

“We’d lose even more ground and potentially alert the Council there’s a breach in the Archives.” Shepard cut him off. “We went over this already, Kaidan. James?”

“All set, Lola,” James said through her earpiece.

“Yeah, but—”

Shepard stood up, arms crossed in front of her. “The time to voice your doubts about this plan was back at the apartment, Major. Are you in or are you out?”

It came out as a challenge, and more snippy than she intended. Shepard hated the way she defaulted to the defensive when Kaidan questioned her. Her rational brain knew he wasn’t voicing doubts in her, just considering all the options. His ability to see all sides of a problem was one of his best qualities, and not something Shepard wanted to discourage.

Yet when that tone came into his voice, somehow Shepard found herself back on Horizon, watching him walk away. It wasn’t fair to him, and she throttled the impulse as soon as it sprang up, but it always crept back. This damn thief poked at all her soft spots, making small cuts bleed faster.

“I’m in, Shepard,” Kaidan said, eyes troubled, “but I’m running out of euphemisms for ‘and then we blew it up’ for the Council reports.”

Oh. That brought her back to reality. “What if I promised to write the next one?”

“Deal.” Kaidan grinned at her, and Shepard couldn’t resist a little half-grin back. 

“Shepard, if you’ve forgotten how to plant a bomb, I’ll be happy to come over and help you out.” Garrus’s voice was bleached bone dry.

“Nah, we’re done here.” Shepard grabbed Kaidan’s hand, squeezing it as they backed out of the blast radius. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

“Records indicate this area previously housed a dextro-amino spice shop, and no frozen-liquid-based treats were sold—” The rest of EDI’s misguided correction was lost as the floor blasted apart, Liara’s biotic bubble containing shrapnel but not noise.

“Boom, baby.” Shepard ran her tongue along her lips, and Kaidan made a face at her. She blew him a kiss.

The hole left by the explosives was surprisingly tidy, leaving jagged, curling edges but little structural damage. She loved it when her explosions went according to plan.

Looking over her team, Shepard flashed back to Kaidan, Garrus, and Tali huddled upstairs in her spare bedroom. “All right. Wrex, you’ll take point with me. Just like old times,” Shepard added with a grin. Wrex chortled, nasty and delighted. “James, feel like knocking some heads with a krogan?”

“You know it, Lola,” he said, cracking his knuckles.

Kaidan and Garrus stared holes through her armor. While she rotated her personal fire teams based on many factors, at least one of them always ended up on the ground with her. “Kaidan, Garrus? I want you leading the strike teams.” There. Let them argue with that.

“I’m in charge of something? Maybe I’ll get to push a button this time,” Garrus remarked, his mandibles twisting to the left. Kaidan just nodded.

“Liara, Tali, Brooks? You’re with Garrus.”

“I’ll keep him on track, Shepard,” Tali promised Shepard mock-solemnly.

“Appreciate it, Tali.” Shepard snickered at Garrus’s grumble. “That leaves Javik, EDI, and Cortez with Kaidan.”

Cortez grinned, loading his pistol. His hardsuit was surprisingly well-worn for a recent-issue model.

“So, as Team Vakarian—”

“We are _not_ Team Vakarian.” Tali waved her hands in Garrus's face to cut him off. “If we have to have names, they won’t be of turian bosh’tets with huge heads.”

“What’s wrong with my head?” Garrus patted it, flattening his fringe.

“Well, we’re gonna be...Team Mako!” James announced.

“Hell no.” Cortez rolled his eyes. “No way are we running around like drunk rhinos. What about Team Hammerhead?”

“Like the shark?” Brooks asked.

“Then we will be Team Mako,” Tali finished. “It’s best without Shepard driving, anyway.”

“But I wanted to be—”

“I believe we have, as humans say, called ‘dibs’, James,” Liara informed him. Hints of a smirk peeked from her lips.

“I am my own team,” Javik declared, lifting his rifle into the air.

James scowled, waving them all off.

“Okay,” Shepard said, trying not to scream, “now that we’ve finished the all-important task of naming the teams, can we get going?”

“Oh.” James scratched his head. “Right.”

“Krogan first!” Wrex hollered as he jumped into the hole. “See you at the party, princesses!”

“Don’t get too far ahead,” Shepard warned him as she dropped down, but Wrex was already climbing down an emergency access ladder. Wrex’s excitement over finding a good fight had its downsides.

“All right,” Shepard said, looking around at the teams. “Team Mako breaks left, Hammerhead right. I don’t know how easily these people can track my movements, so all communications between me and the rest of the team will be routed through EDI, even if I’m not cloaked. Be prepared for a fight. Fire support’s appreciated, but watch your own asses.”

It was the type of place she would’ve forced a confrontation. Dark and twisting, with plenty of cover. It would be simple to slip into the shadows, lose her opponent, and strike.

Sure enough, as she dropped to the lower level and signaled for Team Mako to move, tell-tale beams of laser sighting fell on most of the crew. Shepard cloaked immediately. She darted behind a pillar and broke the snipers’ sight lines.

“Scatter and take cover!” Shepard yelled. She threw a grenade at two mercs holed up behind a desk. When they broke from their hidey-hole, she shot one with the Suppressor and the second with an incendiary plasma bolt. The mercenary shrieked and flailed as the material burned away his armor and found the skin beneath.

Her squad rushed into the fray. Wrex bashed a heavy weapons merc across the face with his Claymore. He finished the reeling fool with a head-butt. James followed Wrex’s example, tackling and gutting one mercenary before firing a high-explosive round at a second approaching.

Shepard recloaked, preparing to fire her Valiant at a telltale light ripple, when a green biotic strike landed nearby. The sniper was swept into the air. Javik finished the floating sniper with a hard bounce on the floor.

Another scuffle caught Shepard’s eye. Brooks fell some distance away from Mako. She was struggling to rise when an outline emerged from the shadows.

Shepard fired from the hip, but the figure slid underneath Shepard’s trajectory, leaning down to pull Brooks up by the hair. Before anyone could react, the figure had Brooks upright and in a chokehold, a pistol pressed into Brooks’s jugular.

“That’s enough.” The figure’s voice soared over the fight, a cold, controlled contralto that made her throat clench.

So this was her unseen rival. Even with shadows obscuring her, Shepard picked out a tall, armored silhouette holding Brooks steady. Brooks clawed at the woman’s arm, to no avail.

Shepard watched Brooks struggle through her scope. She moved in millimeters, seeking a clear sight line to the figure’s head. With the night mode on her scope activated, she could take her first real look at the thief...

… _no_.

Shepard froze, her brain shrieking to a halt. That…that didn’t even make _sense_.

“Let her go,” Shepard said, her voice higher than usual.

“You want me so bad? Go through her.”

Fuck, that even sounded like – but _no_. _No no no_.

Shepard specced her Valiant to minimize recoil; she could fire off the two shots remaining in her clip and kill… _that_ , but Brooks would not survive it. Her finger fluttered over the trigger anyway, everything in her screaming at her to _pull_. Only the weight of her team’s gazes kept her back. With a harsh gasp, Shepard dropped her Valiant and raised her hands in the air, nodding at James and Wrex to do the same.

“Now that’s a damn shame,” _that_ said, abruptly tossing Brooks aside. With a swift, hard kick, Brooks tumbled to the lower level, panting and shaking.

New troopers poured into the room, cornering her squads. Shepard kept her hands up as Wrex snarled something at the merc closest to him. Hammerhead and Mako kept their weapons raised, but were outnumbered two to one.

Damn it. How was _that_ even possible?

“Bitch,” Brooks spat up at her attacker as she fought to stand. _That_ smiled, it fucking _smiled_ ; Shepard knew it as she knew her Valiant, as she knew the fucking Suppressor at her waist. She snarled, “Whoever you think you are—”

“I know exactly who I am.”

The figure leaped down, revealing in full light what Shepard already knew. Brown skin, hair, eyes. Sharp cheekbones and a hard wedge of a nose. Full mouth made thin with malice.

The same face she saw in her mirror.

“My question, _Maria_ ,” the woman with her face asked, “is who are _you_?”

 

 

**_two._ **

The first question anyone asked was not, “Who the fuck are you?” or, “Why the fuck do you have Shepard’s face and a suit of N7 armor?”

Instead, James asked, “Who’s Maria?” while her teammates glanced wildly between her and her creepy doppelganger

Said creepy doppelganger stood with her arms crossed, saying nothing, letting their confusion do its work. The likeness was fantastic; even the three freckles on her lower right cheek were in the right spots.

Liara broke the silence. “It’s...Shepard’s first name.” After a perplexed pause, she added, “Her real one.”

Of _course_ Liara knew. Even if the Alliance had no record, the hints were there, and Liara pieced together a cycle of galactic extinction with crap she dug out of the ground. Finding Shepard’s birth name would’ve been a cinch for her.

One day, Shepard promised herself, she would be grateful for all Liara had done for her. For now, that gratitude, like every other emotion of Shepard’s, was mixed with a touch of venom.

“That can’t be right,” Kaidan said, the words a sharp contrast to his well- _that_ -explains-a-lot face. “Shepard’s personnel file lists her given name as ‘Jane.’”

Even the mercenaries turned to her, expecting an answer. She leveled a glare at her twin, who gave her a laconic little shrug.

Okay, so the creepy doppelganger nailed the dramatic entrance and derailed the holy-shit-Shepard-has-a-creepy-doppelganger narrative in favor of this trip down memory lane. It was a good opening parley; Shepard wasn’t too proud to admit that. Shepard, 0; Creepy Doppelganger, 1.

“There was a paperwork error,” Shepard supplied. The recruiting office had refused to leave the field blank.

Kaidan let out a disbelieving laugh. “A paperwork error is being Kaiden with an ‘e’ for six months after enlisting, Shepard,” he replied. His brows snapped together, an unhappy furrow between them. “Wait. Is _Shepard_ even your name?”

“Shepard _is_ my name,” she protested. “Just...not the one I was born with. And you think we could pick this up some time when my creepy doppelganger and her asshole mercenaries aren’t holding us hostage?”

A harsh, rusty noise rose from the woman with her face. Shepard was half-convinced she was having some sort of attack before she placed the sound.

She was laughing.

“Oh that’s just classic us,” she wheezed through broken gales. “Three years those poor bastards followed you into whatever hellhole you’re visiting that week, and you couldn’t bother to tell them your real name.”

“Classic...us?” Shepard studied her again. “Who exactly are you?”

“Come on, _Maria_.” She rolled her eyes. “Did you really think you would be the only ‘Shepard’ that Cerberus brought back?”

Her brain flipped between what-the-shit and get-out-get-out-now too fast to follow. “Where did you even come from?”

She sauntered forward, pushing into Shepard’s space. “Same DNA as you.”

“So you’re a clone,” Wrex murmured, in case anyone hadn’t figured that out for themselves.

“You’d already died once. Cerberus needed you to make it through the Collector mission. I was your personal organ farm, in case you got a leg blown off or a liver stabbed out.” No bitterness tinged the words.

It was something out of a bad action vid, but it was so very _Cerberus_ that Shepard believed it. Had Miranda known about this? Leaving a loose end that large was unlike her. Shepard needed more information. “So you just...what? Woke up one day and decided to be an asshole?”

“That’s such a vulgar description,” the clone said. “I woke up while you sat in a jail cell, waiting for your Alliance masters to pull their heads out of their asses. Little elbow grease, some old-fashioned stubbornness, just the right blend of neural implants, and...here I am.” The clone had an open smile without the cruel edge that bled into her other expressions. She was proud of herself.

“Neural implants?” Anything sophisticated enough to make a full-grown adult with no brain development function at this level would have a cutting-edge price tag. “Did the Illusive Man send you?

“Please.” The clone scoffed. “He abandoned me when he had what he wanted. Cerberus has no more claim on me than they have on you. Maybe even less. At least all my parts are home grown.”

Shepard’s hackles rose by reflex, the insinuation nagging at a wound she’d chosen to push past rather than rehabilitate. “It’s cute that you’re deluded like that,” Shepard said, more defensive than she wanted to be, “but the role of Commander Shepard is already filled.”

“Is it?” The clone glanced up at Liara. “If you’re the great Commander Shepard, why did Thessia fall?”

That was a well-calibrated precision strike, because Shepard had been asking herself the same question.

“Thessia was Cerberus’s fault, not Shepard’s!” Liara cried, her hand gripping the rail.

“You really think you could do better than Shepard, clone?” James sneered at her.

“Yes.” No doubt, no fear. As if she were stating a law of physics.

“And yet you haven’t managed to kill Shepard,” Tali said with a smug finger-wag.

“Kill Maria?” She watched Shepard, eyes cool. “Is that what your ragtag band of misfits thinks is going on here?”

 _Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo._ 1

“What the hell do you want?” Shepard wiped a bead of sweat from her brow while her crew whispered among themselves in confusion.

“I’m here to extend an offer.”

“Pretty lame invitation,” Kaidan commented, mocking at the clone.

Not lame, precise. She’d been drawn here, to a threat her crew couldn’t see because Shepard refused to permit them, to play out this sick game in a place the world would never see. The clone kept her eyes locked on Shepard, waiting for an acknowledgment. Shepard nodded, bidding her to continue.

“Give me the Normandy,” the clone said. “I don’t have the memories to fool my supposed friends, but if you tell them to stand down, they will. Because they love you. They always love you. So you give me the Normandy, and you let me finish this war.”

Her friends cracked up, peals of laughter breaking through the tension. From Wrex’s bellow to Liara’s polite titter, they all lost it. “You think anyone would believe you’re Shepard, _pendeja_?” James asked between whoops of laughter.

“You’d be surprised, _chilito_ 2,” the clone replied. The accent was perfect. “Once I’m on the Normandy, no one will ask questions. They all need ‘Shepard’ too badly to care.”

Shepard hated that vile crack of an instant she considered it, an instant before the ghost of the Prothean Empire roared inside her and ground that thought into dust. That demon had not yet been sated, and it would drive her to the end.

“Why are you even asking that?” Brooks giggled, her voice brassy and a touch hysterical. “Why would she accept such a ridiculous offer?”

Because if she didn’t, the clone would push her out onto the ledge. Rip Shepard open; let her secrets spill their blood.

“She knows why.” The clone smiled, drawing out the moment with her silence. “What’s it going to be, Maria?”

“That’s not my name,” Shepard said, “and you already know my answer.” She activated her omni-tool communicator, messaging the Normandy’s retrofit team. “This is Commander Shepard. I’m enacting a Priority Alpha lockdown of all Normandy systems. Sending the command codes now—”

The signal died on the digital vine as the clone’s tool flared bright, cutting off her transmission. With soft _tsk_ and a shake of her head, she said, “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

She turned to the squad leaders behind her. “Keep them off me. Today we grind the Cult of Shepard into dust.”

 

 

**_three._ **

If there were ever a time to improvise, it was now. Improvisation meant knowing the surroundings. In the face of her too-clever clone, Shepard couldn’t afford even a surreptitious glance.

So she was improvising at improvising.

The crackle of glass distracted the mercs, letting Shepard cloak, pick up her Valiant and roll into cover just before the entire structure crashed to the floor. She tucked herself under a desk as glass and metal burst in every direction.

“We still got everyone?” Shepard asked into her comm link, trying to keep her voice low. Her distraction startled the troops it didn’t crush, buying everyone else seconds to recover. As she peeked out from the desk, she saw James putting out some serious suppressive fire while Wrex shotgun-whipped a hapless merc.

“We’re on the balcony!” Tali replied.

“I’m okay, too!” Brooks chipped in.

“On your seven!” Shepard yelled, and Wrex turned immediately to a creeping sniper. She flew into the wall with a sickening crunch. “Where’s everyone else?”

“On high ground with a sniper rifle. Doesn’t get any better than this!” Garrus declared.

“Having a little party up here! With bullets!” Kaidan called.

It hadn’t occurred to her they’d be excited. Punchy, even. Even with the clone, to them, these were nothing but second-rate guns for hire, nothing like the endless nightmare fuel of the Reapers or the twisted precision raids Cerberus launched. Compared to that, this was a lark. Her friends didn’t know their enemy was ripping the stitches out of her oldest wounds, pushing at the dark underpinnings of her.

At that moment, she hated them for that. Hated herself for it even more.

Shepard rolled out of the way of a few cluster grenades before steadying herself enough to reload her rifle. A quick peek through the scope showed her Liara above, pinned by three troopers. One shot from her rifle, one from Garrus’s, and a stasis field from Liara gave the asari enough room to escape. A well-timed bolt of plasma bought Tali’s combat drone a few extra seconds. It was enough for the drone to launch a rocket right into its enemy’s gut.

Times like this, Shepard saw herself as a choreographer, not a soldier. She fought the temptation to sit back and watch her squad annihilate their enemies without a shot from her.

“One big happy ass-kicking family!” James had his shotgun out now and cut straight through an omni-shield, leaving a perfect target for Garrus. “You see that shot, Brooks? That’s how legends do it!”

“If I wasn’t covering my eyes, I’d be impressed!”

The other possibility, Shepard thought as she switched to her Locust, was to slip away during the fight. Shepard was not a coward, but she was a runner. Always had been. She didn’t know what this thing knew, but she had to be ready.

She sprayed a few bullets at a nearby trooper, softening him up for Wrex. He crowed about ‘Uncle Urdnot’ and bringing the boom. A few more shots and the last of the mercs were finally down. “We clear?”

“Just the way you like them,” Garrus said.

“Perimeter secured,” Kaidan confirmed.

She put her Locust aside, pulling out her Valiant again. “Let’s move.”

After a few seconds she turned back, not sensing James or Wrex. They stood still, boring holes straight through her.

James scratched his neck, gaze averted from Shepard. “So... _Maria_.”

He pronounced it the way it echoed in her memories, Mar- _ee_ -ah, the minor trill over the ‘r’ as when her mother and father’s accents rolled over the syllables. Harder to push down, not react, when it sounded like an echo from her childhood.

 _Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre: Jesús._ 3

“ _Shepard_ ,” she corrected, throwing the memory off. “If I wanted you to call me Maria, I would’ve said so.”

“It sounds like a very pretty name.” Tali’s voice chirped over the comm.

Liara began, “Maria is one of the names of a fertility goddess in one of the more popular human religions—”

“Nah, she’s not a goddess,” James corrected Liara. “She’s the Mother of God. Higher than a saint, but not a god.” Shepard gave James a sidelong look. “What? I take my _abuela_ to Mass every Sunday when I’m at home.”

“The nature of the Virgin Maria’s veneration varies among the human Christian worshipers, but all agree she is not a god in of herself,” EDI explained.

“Why would anyone worship virgins? I’m looking forward to losing my virginity,” Tali said. “Even with all the snot.”

“In my cycle, we placed no emphasis on such asinine markers—”

“Quiet!” Shepard yelled, cutting all the chatter. “Tali, never talk about sex and snot in the same paragraph again. Javik, that’s...less terrible than usual. Everyone else, are we going to stand around and talk about virgins or are we gonna go murder the shit out of my clone?”

Nobody moved. Shepard smacked her forehead. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

Still no response. She snuck a glance at Kaidan, and regretted the impulse. The mingling anger and hurt was too overpowering to face at the moment.

She got it; really, she did. They’d seized on the name thing because all the other...things were still a confusing mess. The name was tangible evidence of something they were only beginning to wrap their heads around.

“We need to move,” Shepard said, no longer willing to tolerate their dragging. Actually running out the door jogged them into compliance. She set a pace a shade too fast for Wrex and James. She’d hear them breathing soon enough, but this pace wouldn’t wind her. “Team Mako, you’re on point. Hammerhead, cover the flank.”

“Right! And what exactly is a mako?” Brooks asked.

“Nothing compared to the Hammerhead,” Cortez chipped in.

“What, this again, Esteban?” James laughed between puffs.

The next door led to a dim, open room nearly the size of an Alliance frigate, the walls packed on each side with countless circular structures. These were the vaults, and even Shepard paused a second to absorb the vastness of the space, untold amounts of data stored within this place. She eyed the ceiling-mounted crane system and the extensive catwalk network, mentally tracing her clone’s possible pathways.

“Big place,” Kaidan said over the comm.

_That your professional opinion, sir?_

“No shit,” Wrex chimed in, and Shepard’s smile cracked through her grim mood.

Team Mako was on a catwalk above them and to the left, Hammerhead below and to the right. Everything appeared quiet, but Shepard had no doubt there were organized defenses set up ahead.

“Shepard.” Tali cut into her thoughts. “What do you think your clone is looking for in here?”

Was the clone looking for something? They were below the ward, and the Council would refuse C-Sec to investigate the disturbance. Their only real option would be to send another Spectre to investigate, but the remaining Spectres were on assignments in their home spaces or acting under Jondam Bau, who hinted in his last message they were deployed in the Traverse. If things went south, the Council might not have anyone with the necessary clearance to come after them. All of which made the Archives a perfect trap.

The question was for whom.

This wasn’t about her death, or, if it was, it wasn’t for any of the usual reasons. This was about pain, about the slow twist of a knife in her gut. The clone meant to toy with them, tantalize her team with hints of a Shepard best left buried. The clone had kept her cool, but Shepard’s mind caught on a part of the “offer” she’d made.

_They love you. They always love you._

The bitterness in those words was the only time the clone let emotion creep into her voice. If her team were the real target, then the next step would be figuring out what resources the clone had available.

“At this point, anything’s possible.” She had to give Tali some kind of answer, but her speculations would lead to more questions.

“You mean like strolling along and bumping into your clone?” Kaidan was trying to tease her, but she heard an edge undercutting his tone.

Shepard fiddled with her Valiant. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Not without a lot of _cerveza_ ,” James said. Shepard would drink to that.

“So...how are we gonna find anything in this place?” Wrex asked, stopping to peer over a rail.

She looked up to Liara and Glyph, floated down to meet her. “Glyph?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“Track the target. Give me updates on its location.”

“What is the nature of the target?” Glyph asked.

Was there a good way to describe this? “She looks like me.”

Glyph pulsed brightly. “Then I have found the target.” For a VI, that response was dangerously close to deadpan snark.

“No Glyph, it’s another me. Now go.” Shepard dismissed the drone with a hand wave.

Team Hammerhead was running parallel to her on the right. Shepard kept her face forward, avoiding Kaidan’s eyes.

As she approached a stairwell, machines whirred as a merc yelled, “There they are! The other Shepard’s still alive!”

“You mean the only Shepard!” James cried out, tossing a grenade at the lowering platform. Wrex tossed Shepard a grin and tucked his head in, preparing to charge.

“Then what the hell are you waiting for?” the clone demanded over the Archives’ PA system.

Shepard found cover behind a solid railing panel. She was readying her shot when a bolt of energy struck the merc she’d been aiming for. A quick headshot from the Valiant and the first mercenary died. She cloaked, moving in close enough to impale another on her omni-blade. He slid down the blade, frozen by the shock as Shepard threw him off.

“We can lower you from here, Shepard,” Tali told her. Shepard motioned to James, who joined her and Wrex on the platform. She spun away from Hammerhead as they walked past. “Now if you get into the vault, we can move you across.”

 _‘You’re not going to catch up to me this way, Maria.’_ Instead of the PA system, the clone’s voice rang in her ear. Hammerhead paused above, Cortez tapping his earpiece. They’d heard it too.

“Everyone, switch channels now,” Shepard ordered, but as she followed her own instructions, every channel came back with static. Switching back to the original channel, Shepard said, “EDI?”

“The clone appears to be running a specialized jamming technology. We are only able to communicate with you on this channel.”

So she was stuck on a hacked channel. Well, lines went both ways. “Just because you read some files doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”

 _‘Know you?’_ A soft cackle. _‘I_ am _you. The real you, not that front you put on so your little worshipers will love you. Do they know how many ways you’ve killed them inside your head?’_

Half a dozen. A baker’s dozen for Kaidan. (Necessary _and_ oddly cathartic.) It wasn’t a direct admission, but it was enough for Shepard.

She had to assume that the clone found Operation Killswitch.

And that changed everything.

“Uh...Commander? If you get into the vault, we can move you across.”

“Right, Brooks.” Shepard stepped forward, listening with half an ear as a recorded voice droned on about the First Contact War. James stepped towards a weapon rack, studying the contents.

“So why the name change, Shepard?” Garrus asked.

Shepard scowled. They’d probably argued about this, and Garrus had drawn the short straw. If they weren’t letting it go, then she’d answer a few questions, keep them focused on the mission. “The Alliance misidentified me when they picked me up after the raid.”

“And you didn’t correct them because...” Cortez prompted her.

Because back then she couldn’t talk without wanting to scream, and to scream would be admit she felt anything other than contempt. Because she’d desperately needed to not be herself, to not be _that girl_. “The Alliance and I weren’t really on speaking terms back then.”

“Didn’t the Alliance rescue you?” Kaidan asked. She almost heard the wrinkle on his forehead.

“Rescue me?” Shepard bit back a snarl. “They were three days too late to _rescue_ me. They found me lying in a ditch off the side of the road. Only reason no one took me was because they assumed I was dead.”

She’d lived longer with it than without it and still the wound never healed. There was no good way to explain that some things that kill you didn’t make you stronger, either. They just left you broken. You couldn’t, not to people looking to you for hope. So she rearranged the pieces into someone new, and that new person struck fear into slavers’ hearts and saved the galaxy twice.

They all stared at her now, as if the cracks in her skin had reopened. Even Wrex’s eyes squinted, looking for the damage.

“Keelah...”

“I’ve heard stories from raids on other colonies, and it always breaks your heart...”

“You have never mentioned this, Shepard.”

“Before Anderson pulled me onto the Normandy I was one of the Alliance’s top field experts on counter-terrorism, with a focus on anti-Hegemony and Terminus slaver operations, because I know what happens when the Alliance shows up too late,” Shepard said, punctuating with a soft sigh. “Look, can we drop this? That girl doesn’t exist anymore.”

Shepard never fully grasped the cliché “the silence was deafening” until that moment. There was a way in which shifting postures and uncomfortable glances spoke with more vehemence than any follow-up question. Even over a silent comm line she heard revelations and conclusions exchanged and debated.

What that ear-splitting silence told Shepard was that she’d said too much. Then again, _anything_ was too much for her tastes.

“Was that why you didn’t mind working with Cerberus?”

That was when Shepard learned silences could get _louder_.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean to imply...” She knew from long experience that Kaidan had his best foot-ankle-and-calf-in-mouth look plastered on his face. The question still struck like a drone strike to her kidney.

When Shepard tried to say ‘no,’ the word wouldn’t form. Some lies were too big even for her. She’d felt it in Anderson’s Council office when they offered to reinstate her as a Spectre, flashing back to the marines who pulled her body from the ditch they’d found her in and promised she was safe. Both times she’d laughed in authority’s face.

“Let’s just say,” Shepard said finally, “that I’ve seen the Alliance at its worst. It’s no different from the Council or any other major government. It’s still better than Cerberus. Now let’s focus on our mission.”

More awkward silence, but Shepard would gladly take awkward silence over awkward questions right now. She needed to stanch the bleeding, keep focused until the clone was dead and her skin stopped crawling.

“So,” James said, rocking his weight back and forth, “this gun here? Used in the First Contact War. You mind me grabbing a souvenir, Lola?”

Shepard sighed again. “Whatever, James. Let’s move.”

 

 

**_four._ **

As they stepped onto another catwalk, Glyph reappeared. “Commander, the other you is searching for something about 100 meters ahead.”

“Got it,” Shepard said. At least one member of her crew focused on the target instead of on dissecting her past.

Her crew was quiet, exchanging positions and tactical advice instead of quips. A studied dispassion crept into Kaidan and Garrus’s voices when they checked in with her. James didn’t whoop once, and Wrex’s swings had new power behind them. Pangs of guilt spiraled through her. She’d heard her friends more lively when fighting a pack of Banshees.

Her team stepped on top of a vault, eying the narrow passage. The vaults’ construction provided plenty of cover, but she caught the glint of a portable barrier. They were expected.

A team of mercs stepped out to engage. Shepard pulled her Locust, blasting the closest merc with cryo rounds, the snap-freeze effect kicked in right as Wrex put his meaty fist into the bastard’s gut. The merc shattered on impact, icy pieces flying everywhere, slowing down two nearby targets.

Stray shots from a merc in the distance took out half her shields, so she hacked into his, draining his kinetic barrier and restoring her own. She dived back into cover, switched to her sniper rifle, and finished him with a satisfying splatter the next time he popped his head up.

“We’re over here, Shepard!” Team Mako was on a far platform, with Garrus providing fire support. James killed another merc with a shredder round from his shotgun.

“First person to kill a member of Maria’s team gets a bonus,” the clone announced, switching back to the PA system. “Also, if you don’t, they’ll blow your head off.”

“That other you sounds like a real asshole,” Cortez said. It was the first sign of life from her friends since that disastrous conversation in the vault.

“She’s a monster. Why would anyone follow her?” Brooks asked smugly.

Sometimes Shepard asked herself that question. ‘Monster’ would be what most sane people would conclude if they read the whole of Shepard’s files. That Shepard herself didn’t completely agree either meant she was complicated or a psychopath. Maybe a little of both. Could you be semi-psychopathic? She vented her frustration into the mail slot of an omni-shield-carrying heavy.

“Team Mako, moving ahead!” Garrus said. “Catch you on the other side.”

Wrex and James surged ahead, knocking and shooting everything in their way as they moved over the last tube. As they finally reached another catwalk, Tali’s frantic voice came over the link. “Shepard! They’ve got us pinned down! We could use some help!”

“On our way!” Shepard signaled for Wrex and James to move ahead, Wrex chuckling while James cracked his knuckles. They clattered down the ramp, and Shepard couldn’t help a satisfied smirk when a merc yelled, “Shit, it’s the krogan!” Definitely took the wind out of their pinning Mako.

“Are you assholes fighters or cannon fodder? Take them down!” the clone yelled.

Shepard stopped, dropped behind a solid panel railing, and cloaked. There’d been an echo under the PA announcement, more visceral than any communications line conveyed. “Wrex! James! Cover Mako so they can get their asses out of there.”

“Right, boss!” James said, spraying the area with his assault rifle. Shepard took down one enemy with her rifle, but her eyes were busy scanning the perimeter, searching for...there. The faintest of ripples, then lost to another shadow.

She was here.

Two CAT6 squads converged, approaching Mako’s position. James and Wrex bought Mako time, but if the clone had half her skill with a sniper rifle, she needed to get them to cover now.

“Go!” Shepard shouted as she tossed a grenade into the squads’ trajectories. “I can cover you from here!” She sprinted down the catwalk uncloaked as Wrex and James ran for the ladder. Then she slid behind a stack of crates.

“Oh, now they decide to play hardball, huh?” James complained as he scrambled up the ladder.

A laser sight appeared at the back of James’s head. Shepard pulled the Suppressor. She hurdled out and fired wildly into the place she’d spotted the distortion. Her shots sailed into the walls, but it disrupted the clone long enough for Wrex to clamber up the ladder behind James.

She rolled behind another crate as the squad targeted her. “This is Shepard! I need—”

A colossal flood of gunfire engulfed the CAT6 squad, hammering them with a maelstrom of bullets. Startled, Shepard saw her entire team providing her with cover fire. Within seconds, they’d torn the entire squad to pieces. They kept shooting for another minute, and Shepard wisely stayed behind her crate. Her breath hitched in her throat, torn between admiration for them and self-loathing.

“That’s what I love about you guys,” Wrex said, casting admiring looks at the whole team. “Why shoot something once when you can shoot it 46 more times?”

“In retrospect, I should have employed my decoy, but this allowed the rest of you a significant catharsis.”

“That’s right!” James cried with his trademark whoop, pumping his Mattock in the air. “You mess with Shepard, and you mess with her friends! Unless we happen to be climbing a ladder...hey, Shepard? You gonna climb the ladder?”

Shepard fixed her eyes on the platform, calculating the clone’s possible movements with her mind.

“Shepard?” Liara asked as Shepard took a step forward.

There it was. Another flicker. “Don’t you have some mysterious objective to achieve?” Shepard asked, snarling up at the shadow.

“I have plenty of time,” the clone replied. Shepard swung her head left and right as the clone spoke, small movements that made the location of the clone’s voice easier to track. She stepped forward and left, watching for another light ripple. “It’s not like you can catch me.”

Shepard snorted, crossing her arms. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“If you really wanted to catch me, you’d cut them loose.”

“Is that right.” Shepard drawled the words, a loose to cover her growing unease.

“You pull your triggers because they’re watching. You slow your pace so they can keep up; look back to make sure they’re following.”

_You’re slower than I imagined, Shepard._

“They have no idea who you really are.”

“I think we know Shepard pretty damn well,” Kaidan said, his voice low. “And she’s about to kick your ass.”

If Kaidan was defending her, he couldn’t be that angry. Not that that would remain true much longer.

“Is that right,” the clone murmured, deadpan, and something about the utter chill in that voice wound icy fingers into Shepard’s very core. Bad enough to meet someone with your face and your armor. It was a whole new realm of disarming to meet someone with your gift for cold assessment, your calculated disregard.

“Tell me, then.” Shepard leaned up towards the clone, baring her teeth in a challenge. “Who am I?”

“A killer.” Shepard _heard_ her smile. “A monster in the dark. A chalk outline, walking on a razor wire.”

Shepard couldn’t prevent the kneejerk half-step backwards as she absorbed that blow. Memories crowded her, empirical evidence of everything the clone claimed cycling through her brain. She swallowed, unchecked rage washing through her, drowning out everything but her and her doppelganger. “So you’re here to...what? Punish me for my sins?”

“Punish you?” The clone laughed the rusty noise from before. “I didn’t just study humans, I studied you. I admired you. You burned away every bit of human empathy for the greater good. You were magnificent...until you stepped onto the Normandy.”

“Why are we not shooting her?” Javik demanded.

“I am unable to locate a target,” EDI replied.

“Stupid synthetic.” There was a brief blast of gunfire at the platform.

Shepard rolled her eyes. “She’s not there anymore, guys.”

“You gave it up,” the clone continued, undisturbed, “and for what? So you could play house with your failed science experiment boyfriend? So some C-Sec washout and the princess of the bubble people would look up to you? To pal around with an electric can opener? And what the fuck is up with the crippled pilots? I mean, literally and figuratively.” She paused. “That wasn’t rhetorical. I’m genuinely curious.”

The murmurs behind her rose, along with more impulsive firing at shadows. “That’s why you slipped on Thessia. You let your doubts, your craving for their approval, override the bitch inside you that knows how to win at all costs. But me? I’m free. No baggage. No morality chains to pull me under. And that’s why I can win the war.”

“You are just a pale imitation of the real Shepard!” Liara yelled. Shepard caught the scent of burning eezo.

“And _you_ are my favorite, Dr. T’Soni,” the clone said. “You know she’s never going to love you, right? But she’ll string you along if that’s what it takes to win her war.”

Shepard felt the dark energy before she saw it, an enormous gravity well forming over the platforms, cracking and distorting anything it snapped up in its sweeping wake.

“Liara!” Shepard spun around to face her. Her friend was a blue star of rage as her singularity wrought havoc on the catwalks. It dispersed faster than it began, energy petering away, metal and plastic bits floating off as the biotics released their grip.

“Looks like I hit a nerve,” the clone commented.

“Nothing you say matters.” Every word out of Liara’s mouth was an earthquake. Yet despite Liara’s declaration, her friends had dim, uncertain expressions on their faces. They were troubled.

They should be.

“You just haven’t heard enough,” the clone replied. “Ask her about the first batarian slave outpost she tore apart. It wasn’t Torfan.”

_She was seventeen years old, and it was raining, but the fires still hadn’t died, driven ever higher by Adek’s oxygen-rich atmosphere. She watched it burn, the ice in her chest untouched by the heat._

_‘You’re telling me that kid...’_

_‘Not just the kid, but she was the ringleader.’_

_‘Crazy.’_

“Ask her about Trident.” _June 2179._

_Thirty four civilians brought her death count to 2,091._

“Ask her about Solan Arus.”

_November 2181. Three broken bones, third-degree burns over 6% of his body, and a rearranged mouth. And Sirona was safe._

“Ask her about Utha. Dobrovolski. Terra Nova.”

_She’d long lost count of her dead by Utha._

“Ask her how she murdered her own brother when he got in her way.”

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to acknowledge the glares on her back.

“Is...is that true, Shepard?” Kaidan asked in a small voice.

“It wasn’t my intent,” Shepard said, and the words were wormwood on her tongue. Her eyes slid shut. “But...yeah. It was murder.”

No one spoke. They didn’t need to; wide eyes and open mouths said more than any words could at that moment. Even Liara was stunned, taking a step backwards.

Had she not known? Was it possible not even the Shadow Broker knew? Shepard turned back to her clone’s voice.

“Face it, Maria,” the clone said. “I know you better than they ever will. I know what you felt when they dragged you out of that ditch. I know every time you’re on a high ledge, you think of jumping. And I know that deep down, the only thing you love is violence.”

“Shepard...” Liara breathed her name, horror laced into the syllables.

Even with her brain reeling, Shepard grappled for control. The heavy shadows falling on the upper catwalks kept her from pinpointing a location. Her breath was thin, rasping as the clone recited that fucked-up highlight reel. If she tried to get to everything, they’d be here all damn night.

_A chalk outline, walking on a razor wire._

That image haunted her years, well worn by endless revisits. It was Shepard’s and Shepard’s alone. That her clone, without her experiences, her memories, could snatch up that image terrified her.

Shepard liked to think of herself as the sum of her experiences: her peace-wrapped childhood, her violent thereafter, and the beacon that shattered her black calm. Now she considered the possibility the years had not sculpted her, but _revealed_ her. In a twisted way, that would make her clone more Shepard than Shepard herself had ever been.

And yet...

Focus, she reminded herself. Had there been something else threaded in that voice, something underneath the recitation, something sparking hot that belied this narrated scorn? Was there yet another layer to this?

“Oh, who here hasn’t murdered a loved one?” Wrex asked, readjusting his weight. “Just me and T’Soni? Not even the Prothean? He seems pretty grim.”

“The Commander should be brutal. It is the only way to defeat the Reapers.”

“See, that’s the problem,” her clone said, and Shepard cringed in anticipation of the new blow. “She isn’t. Not anymore. She might still get that thrill when she presses a button and kills three hundred thousand batarians, but when you guys are around? She does the right thing. She saves Councilors, the robots and bug monsters. She cures the genophage, and knowing you, Maria, you’re already questioning _that_ decision.”

“ _That_ wasn’t even a question!” Wrex roared. “Shepard cured the genophage because of all my people had suffered!”

The clone snorted. “Tell him, Maria. Tell him you didn’t pull your gun on the scientist.”

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?” Shepard demanded, barely modulating her voice.

“This is pyjak shit, Shepard.” She looked up at Wrex’s toothy grin. “Mordin was your friend. And I know all about the dalatrass’s offer. You did the right thing.”

“Of course,” Shepard said, swallowing.

Wrex’s pupils went razor-thin, suspicion rearing. “Tell me you cured the genophage, Shepard.”

“I did, Wrex!” How had she lost control of this conversation?

Wrex stared down at her, his eyes hard. “But you wish you hadn’t.”

Shepard didn’t answer. Wrex sneered, disgusted, as he turned away from her.

She’d pulled her gun. Ordered Mordin to walk away. He’d refused, told her to stop him if she must. When she’d gone for the trigger, all she heard was Wrex that first day she landed on Tuchanka, yelling _Shepard, my friend!_ First fucking time since waking up on that table she hadn’t felt like the galaxy wished she’d stayed dead.

Now that Thessia was burning, of course she wondered. The leaps she hadn’t taken, the times she’d stayed her hand and let mercy win, haunted her just as much as the ruthless calculus she’d performed.

“Let...let’s just go, Shepard,” Kaidan said, pain resonant in every word. “Climb up the ladder and we’ll figure out how to catch her, okay?”

She turned her back on them, unable to face her crew, to hide her rising panic, the voices screaming in her brain to _stop_ this, to _run_. All the fucking questions, all the pieces of herself she’d given, and it would never be enough, _she would never be enough._

And there was that other voice, the one underneath everything. Quiet, but compelling. A chance at something she never knew she wanted until this moment.

Shepard clenched her jaw, fixed her gaze on the dark, and looked for an opening. She saw the flicker once more, this time near the far wall. First thing to do was spring whatever trap the clone had set.

She needed to stop their madness.

If Shepard adjusted her omni-tool settings and relied on her backup battery, she could keep her cloak operating for hours, more than enough time to sneak past whatever traps her clone set and force a confrontation. Losing her team while every one of them had their eyes trained on her would be the challenge.

Time for a Killswitch field test.

Shepard fired up her omni-tool and aimed a modified energy-draining pulse at her friends. The chaos was immediate, from the fizzle of falling kinetic barriers to the minor flash of auto-generated biotic barriers dropping, confusion and cursing filling the space between them. They’d regenerate in a few seconds, but that was all Shepard needed.

She cloaked, bounded up the stack of boxes, vaulted over the railing, and sprinted after her clone. Not once did she look back.

 

 

**_five._ **

“Holy hell.”

James summed it up well. Shepard faded like a dying spirit into the shadows, vanishing after her clone. Something hot and acidic poured through him. Whatever garbage that clone of hers spewed, was it worth abandoning her squad just to stop it?

“I...she just...” Kaidan gaped at the spot where she’d been.

Garrus had been right by her side when she’d been denounced by most of the Council-race news channels as an anti-turian lunatic. He stayed by her side when she worked with _Cerberus_ , for Spirits’ sake. Why did it feel like a betrayal, watching her bolt after the clone? He wasn’t angry with her. _Frustrated_ was a better word. _Disappointed_ better still.

“EDI!” Kaidan whirled to face the AI. “You can track Shepard, right?”

“Shepard will take measures to prevent my monitoring her,” EDI said. “If she manages her power and does not engage her cloak’s battlefield suite or telemetry features, she may be able to maintain her cloak indefinitely.”

“Glyph?”

“I too am unable to track the Commander through electronic means.”

Kaidan’s head dropped. “Maybe if we hurry—”

James barked a laugh. “You ever see Lola run? She used to do 35 kilometers in under an hour back on Earth.”

“That’s...”

“Shepard’s Cerberus upgrades provided her with significant improvements to her already impressive strength, endurance, and reflexes.”

“Right.” Kaidan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Shepard still needs our help, whether she realizes it or not. So let’s stay in formation.”

“What about us, Major?” James asked. “Not that the krogan and I can’t handle ourselves—”

“I can handle myself _and_ the whelp,” Wrex grumbled. He was clearly still thinking about the genophage.

He’d asked her how it felt to be a hero to the krogan. She told him she’d done it for his people. Back then, Garrus assumed Shepard was being modest.

It wasn’t supposed to be the good things you did that haunted you at night, but there it was. The Reapers warped everything they touched, even morality.

“We should stick together,” Garrus said, and to his relief, Kaidan nodded in agreement. With a team like this, and stressed the way Shepard stressed them, jockeying for the top position could get nasty. “James, you go with Hammerhead. Wrex, come with us.”

“Based on the clone’s current trajectory, I may be able to extrapolate her eventual end point,” EDI announced.

“Works for me,” Garrus said. “Let’s go find Shepard.” He motioned to his team. Tali fell in first, followed by Liara and Brooks. Wrex’s pounding steps echoed in the vast space.

Garrus had his sniper rifle primed, and motioned for Wrex to take point. The krogan grumbled a bit as he made his way to the front. Garrus wasn’t sure what would happen when Wrex found Shepard again.

After the Citadel coup, Garrus asked Shepard if she could’ve taken Kaidan down. “Never,” she’d admitted, not meeting his eyes. “But that’s why I brought you, Garrus. You’re my spotter.”

Some spotter he was. Garrus knew all about getting in too deep, about seeing only your pain, about reacting from a place inside you instead of seeing the whole field. Shepard spotted for him last year, with Sidonis. He’d revered her for it. Garrus glanced back at Team Hammerhead as they walked away, Kaidan’s head still low.

“I just don’t understand,” Liara murmured. She kept flickering, much to everyone’s distress. “How could she do that? Did she really believe those horrible things the clone said would turn us against her?”

Wrex muttered a few choice curses under his breath.

Garrus should’ve seen it. Or maybe he should’ve acknowledged it, forced her to face it, because Shepard had been disintegrating the moment they walked into this cursed place. Before, if Kaidan had the right of it.

He'd let Shepard wave him off when he asked about the stress of the war because Shepard always knew her limits, or so he thought. He trusted in Shepard because the alternative was too terrifying to face. After all, the only team Garrus built for himself was dead. Whenever Garrus had held, he'd held for Shepard. The Collector Base, Palaven, Adrien Victus’s countless dark nights of the soul, all for Shepard.

Now they’d just witnessed Shepard’s breaking point, and that was something the galaxy could not afford.

“What were those dates and places the clone mentioned?” Tali asked, worrying at her hands.

“Ah...” Garrus turned to look at Liara, whose complexion had an odd cobalt tint. “They’re from Shepard’s missions while she was part of the Alliance’s Covert Operations division. All the ones she mentioned were black ops. They...aren’t pleasant reading.”

“Reports like that would be invisible even to most of the Alliance brass,” James said over the comm link. “You’re telling me the...information broker just has all that?”

Liara paused, a finger at her lips. “I...may have sought it out.”

Garrus stopped in his tracks. “Why?”

Liara dipped her head, biting her lip in a movement reminiscent of the naïve scientist she’d been on the SR-1. “I...”

Kaidan let out low, mirthless laugh over the channel. “You went on a Shepard fishing expedition.”

“There were no fish involved,” Liara said as her eyes gleamed dark, “and the previous holder’s file on Shepard was shockingly thin, given his interest in her.”

“Wait...his interest?” Kaidan’s voice dropped into a lower, colder pitch. “What interest?”

No one told Kaidan how Cerberus retrieved Shepard’s body? Not that it was something any of them liked to think about, but he still deserved to know.

“Dr. T’Soni retrieved Shepard’s body from other interested parties on behalf of Cerberus,” EDI explained.

A long silence, followed by a choking sound. “ _You_ gave Shepard’s...you gave _Shepard_ to Cerberus?” Kaidan sounded hollow.

Liara flushed. “They promised to bring her back exactly as she was,” she protested, “and they kept that promise.”

“They even threw in a bonus one for free,” Cortez commented.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anger crept into the tone.

“Because you would’ve tried to stop me!” Liara’s fists were clenched, her eyes gleaming flame-blue. “Or tried to stop Cerberus. The Alliance didn’t care what happened to Shepard. They couldn’t even be bothered to give her a funeral.”

“That was a tactical decision! If the public had known what the Collectors did to the Normandy, there would’ve been mass panic.”

Garrus closed his eyes, shaking his head at Kaidan’s word-for-word repetition of the Council’s decision. Not even Kaidan believed that.

“Even if she had, it wasn’t as if you were answering our messages, Kaidan,” Tali added. She was picking at scabs now. Garrus was going to have to talk to her, wasn’t he?

“I was...” A soft, strangled noise sounded over the comm link. “Let’s just keep moving.”

“Fine by me,” Garrus said. The sooner they got out of this place, the better for everyone. Especially Shepard.

 

 

**_six._ **

“Historical holorecord recorded for future analysis,” EDI announced as she set a trooper on fire.

The words slid past him as he executed his reave mnemonic. Kaidan took a certain vicious pleasure in the way the dark energy snaked through the mercenary. His amp was running hot, but he didn’t care. A sharp snap of his wrist sent two engineers into the wall, launching them straight through a hologram of the Citadel. James finished them off with a few rounds from his Mattock.

Liara had known all along that Shepard – _Maria_ – whatever her name was, dammit – Liara had known she was with Cerberus. Two years he had...he shut that down. Kaidan refused to visit that dark place again.

Then there was Shepard – _Maria_ – whatever her name was – dammit. He’d just learned more concrete information about Shepard’s life in the past half hour than he had in three years of loving her. He’d already been prepared to let the name issue slide after hearing the anguish in her voice, that _that girl doesn’t exist anymore_. Now he had Shepard allegedly murdering her own brother, whatever that meant. Shepard, who was always pushing _forward_ and _through_ and _harder_ and sometimes he was dizzy just trying to keep up, only to discover she’d been going slow for him all along.

Who was he kidding? He was hurt, but the anger was already receding. Kaidan would follow her anywhere. Wasn’t that why he’d stayed away for so long? Not fear of Cerberus, but fear that if he got too close again, he wouldn’t _care_ about Cerberus?

He charged up the stairwell, not caring who kept his pace.

The next holorecord stopped him in his tracks. Footage of a younger Shepard in her old Onyx hard-suit flickered. Scars still traced her left eyebrow and chin.

“Year 2182 CE. First human Spectre deliberations, Vault SH1,” the holorecord’s tinny voice recited. An audio recording began playing. “Commander Shepard’s recent accomplishments are not in question,” Councilor Valern said. “It’s her background the Council has no knowledge of.”

Nice to know Shepard baffled them, too. His barrier quaked; he’d frozen in the middle of battle. Kaidan swung into a covered spot in the records area, firing as he went. _Head in the game, Alenko_.

“Team Mako! What’s your position?” Kaidan yelled as he launched a lift field. The effect billowed out and left three of the mercs dangling hopelessly in the air. Javik spotted them, pulled one merc up in a cascade of green sparks, and slammed him down into another of Kaidan’s floating victims. The clashing fields burst in a flare of mingled blue and green energy, shredding its victims into pieces.

“Bit of a ways behind you!” Garrus yelled over the rat-tat-tat of an assualt rifle.

“Major Alenko,” Glyph droned, “there is a wide vent nearby that would allow Team Mako to reach the central vault approximately ten percent faster—”

“No vents!” Brooks and Tali yelled in unison.

“Then hurry your asses up!” Kaidan stepped out of cover in time to spot a sniper de-cloaking. He froze for half a second, half-hoping to see Shepard. When she aimed at him, Cortez shot the sniper rifle right out of her hands. Kaidan recovered and fired, picking away at her shields.

“Lucky shot, Esteban.”

Cortez shot again, landing right between the eyes. “Not all of us spray and pray, Mr. Vega.”

“Heh. All clear, Major.”

The room went silent in time for Kaidan to hear the tail end of the holorecord. “A few of us joke that in twenty years, we’ll all either be working for Shepard or dead by her hand.”

He’d heard countless people spouting opinions on Shepard, but none quite so succinct. Hackett’s only mistake in his assessment was underestimating the timeline.

It didn’t matter. This was his chance to show Shepard no matter what he’d done in the past, he wasn’t going anywhere now.

 

 

**_seven._ **

Moving through the gaps between the vaults was far more efficient than trawling the catwalks. That’s how the clone kept ahead, and Shepard kept pace. That, and not having to kill a dozen mercs every ten meters she walked.

Shepard maxed the settings on her boots’ mass field generators. You had to know how to finesse them, but they absorbed the impact of her footsteps, muffling even the hardest landings. She moved at nearly a full run in silence.

She sprung across another vault, watching for the telltale gleam of her target.

A twisting feeling in her stomach wouldn’t go away, but Shepard ignored that, along with everything else. Her crew was strong, and they’d be fine against the CAT6 troopers. They’d be angry, but she’d deal with that once she had time to stop and breathe. Until she’d neutralized the clone, the danger was far too great to ignore.

Besides, she moved faster on her own.

 

 

**_eight._ **

“There she is!”

Garrus looked up from his scope long enough to catch light bouncing off the walls wrong. “Which one?”

“Does it matter?” Liara said testily. “Shepard’s close either way.”

“Shepard!” Tali flung her hands up. “Wait for us!”

“So I can carve out your liver and roast it,” Wrex muttered. Garrus was convinced that was bluster. Mostly convinced.

They were approaching the central vaults, where, according to Glyph, the most delicate information the Archives resided. Given that this place kept full records of the synthetic genocide (as EDI called it) and the launch of the original genophage (reassuring to know his ancestors had some doubts), Garrus couldn’t imagine what they kept that deep.

They’d been hit by wave after wave of mercs, slowing their progress compared to Hammerhead’s. If the goal was to corner Shepard and the clone, Mako was getting close to not holding up their side.

Garrus spotted another group across the way. A high-impact shot sent a couple of the mercs scattering like a biotiball charge. He finished the first off with a gut shot while Liara’s warp field wrenched the second. Wrex used a biotic toss to launch another merc into Liara’s victim, and the boom knocked everyone nearby off their feet. Perfect timing for Tali’s savvy attack drone.

“Rocket launcher works nice,” he commented. “Could use some calibrating.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Tali asked with a head shake. She had her omni-tool out, busy hacking into one of those pointy blue drones the mercs had floating around. Garrus had a soft spot for the way her chin jutted out when she performed a hack.

An alert on his visor had Garrus turning left, where several more mercs were approaching from the far side. “T’Soni, lay down a singularity on my eight.”

“Right!” Liara balled her fist, and Garrus felt the drag of dark energy coiling around itself, a sucking void that left the first wave helpless in their wake.

The heavily armored rearguard stomped along the edges of the dark energy, their mag-boots keeping them anchored to the ground. As soon as they were clear, they charged forward, deflecting Liara and Tali’s shots easily.

Wrex surged ahead, ripping the omni-shield out of one trooper’s hands and slamming it into him, sending the poor fool flying. Two more flanked him, and as he turned to engage, Liara’s singularity faded and another three rushed to engage.

“Brooks,” Garrus said. “You have a drone or something we could use to get those troops off Wrex? Brooks?” Static fizzled on the comm line.

“Team Hammerhead! What’s your position?” Again, nothing.

“I think they’re jamming the comms!” Tali said as she ducked under a trooper’s fire.

“As Shepard would say if she were here, ‘thank you, Captain Obvious.’” Garrus fired at Tali’s attacker, but the crafty cloaca swung around, dodging his shot. That gave Tali the opportunity she needed to fire her shotgun into his stomach. “Do you see Brooks?”

“Comm—Mako—nyone!” Brooks’s voice burst onto the comm line, interspersed between spurts of static.

“Brooks! What’s your position?” Garrus asked.

“Think I—separa—cent—’m hurt!”

Garrus couldn’t hear much between the static and Brooks’s screechy panic, and he still had bad guys to kill. He took a deep breath, firing at a sniper exposed to his position. Times like this, sometimes Shepard let human and salarian civilians ramble, letting them sort out their thoughts while she gleaned the relevant bits. “Talk to me, Brooks,” he said, hoping he sounded reassuring.

“—vault—Shepard and—fighting!”

“You see Shepard?” Garrus’s heart pounded.

“—mative. She—clone—not—”

Shepard was fighting the clone without him? It was just like her to hog all the fun.

Wrex shrugged off the last of the heavy mercenaries while Liara trapped two more in a stasis field. Garrus always appreciated an easy target. He took the first out with a shot from his Mantis, while Tali moved in close to finish the second.

“—n’t—” A barrage of gunfire pinged in his ear. That sounded like Shepard’s Locust. They must be fighting in close quarters.

After a shower of sparks in his ear and a final, vicious, blast, Brooks yelled, “NO! Oh, wait, never—”

With the way clear, they ran.

 

 

**_nine._ **

Brooks’s last message, before the static swallowed everything, hurled Kaidan into a near panic. “Quickly now,” Javik said, and Kaidan might have circled back to glare had he not caught the same distraught undertone in the Prothean’s voice that spurred Kaidan forward.

As EDI started a bypass on the lock, a red dot appeared on the doorway. “Everyone down!” Kaidan cried, re-firing his barrier. The sniper was faster, though, and whatever she had loaded pierced straight through Javik’s green barrier. He collapsed, all four eyes rolling upward as he seized.

 _Shit._ Kaidan knelt next to him, checking for a wound. It was small, right through the shoulder, and pierced straight through Javik’s armor. He was the best medic on the team, but he didn’t anything about Prothean physiology.

“Do not stop for me, human!” Javik’s voice was thready as he clasped his shaking fingers on Kaidan’s arm. “Eliminate the clone.”

“Cortez.” Kaidan looked up at the pilot. “Can you stay with him?”

“Sure thing, Major.” He flashed Kaidan a bittersweet smile. “Go get Shepard.”

“Right. James, EDI, let’s move.”

The race up those final flights of stairs blurred in Kaidan’s memories, but he’d never forget seeing Shepard there, peering over the central chasm like a tourist at the Grand Canyon.

“Shepard!” He wanted to grab her, kiss her, order her never to do that again, but that sort of thing always ended in a playful slap, a roll of her eyes, and some new, exciting variation on whatever he’d just begged her not to do three days later. Kaidan picked his battles.

Shepard didn’t move, her eyes fixed on the chasm. “She’s dead.”

“Over the edge?” James asked.

“Not before I emptied my clip into her,” Shepard said. Kaidan breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good.” Garrus and the rest of Team Mako appeared on the other side of the gap. “Shepards have a way of coming back from the dead.”

“Good to see you in one piece, Scars.” James turned to where Brooks cowered behind a crate. “You okay, _chica_?” he asked, offering her a hand.

“I am really not a field agent,” Brooks mumbled, looking a bit dazed. She shook as James helped her to her feet.

Shepard made no move to join the team. She stayed at the ledge, eyes on the space below. “Hey,” Kaidan said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Fine. Just had enough of this place.” Shepard shrugged him off. “EDI, get us out of here.”

“I have located an elevator to the entrance fewer than thirty meters from our location. We will be able to retrieve Lieutenant Cortez and Javik along the way.”

“Cortez and Javik? Is everything all right?” Liara’s painted brow furrowed.

“Buggy got hit with something that knocked him for a loop,” James explained. “Esteban stayed with him.”

Liara’s hand rose to her mouth. “We should get him to Dr. Chakwas quickly.” Her mouth quirked. “For whatever good that will do.”

“All right,” Kaidan said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Shepard was already ahead of them.

 

 

**_ten._ **

The ride back from the Citadel archives was too quiet. There was no post-battle banter, no shared reflection, just the crew stealing nervous glances at one another. Shepard’s eyes never left the skycar window.

_A killer. A monster in the dark. A chalk outline, walking on a razor wire._

_You were magnificent._

He wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to know, if that made sense. It probably didn’t. If Kaidan’s head throbbed mulling over all the clone’s dark insinuations, what doubts tortured Shepard right now?

_So you could play house with your failed science experiment boyfriend?_

Maybe not just Shepard. It was a tough image to shake, the not-Shepard’s lips, never _his_ Shepard and yet achingly familiar, forming those cruel words. Even Shepard blinked today, and maybe that was the problem.

Kaidan snaked a hand into her lap, unsure if he was giving reassurance or seeking it. Shepard didn’t react when he clutched her fingers, her hand cold and inert in his.

After a moment, her head pivoted, staring down at their joined hands. A slight shift let him lace their fingers together, and she shot him an arrested look, a sort of mute shock that he wanted to touch her at all. She’d worn that look a lot on the first Normandy, and for a while after coming back from Apollo’s that first night.

And a flicker of it every time he told her he loved her. Watching him through her eyelashes as if his love made no _sense_.

He knew what that look meant, and he hated it.

“Don’t run off like that on me again, okay?” He pasted a half-smile on his face, striving for a light, teasing tone. “Would’ve loved to help you bring down that clone.”

Shepard snatched her hand from his. “Details don’t matter,” she said through clenched teeth. “She’s gone. That’s the only thing that’s important.”

“Okay.” Kaidan wasn’t sure how things went downhill so fast, but it had been a painful night, and he was a big boy. He could wait her out.

After Joker dropped them off, Shepard marched back into the apartment with her head low and her eyes up, a look she often wore into battle. She stopped at the windows, staring at something Kaidan couldn’t find. When he came back downstairs after changing, she’d stripped down to her black under-suit, the armor pieces strewn on the floor.

Questions crowded his throat. _Why couldn’t you tell me your real name?_ (And the petty follow-up: _why did Liara know and not me?_ ) _What really happened to your brother? Did you think I wouldn’t understand?_

Well, she might think that last one. There was a time he might have not have. Kaidan wasn’t sure to be glad for her sake or sad for his own that was no longer the case. Yet that ghost still hung between them, after Horizon, after Mars, after the coup.

Because Kaidan wasn’t stupid. He knew when he told Shepard he loved her, she didn’t believe him. And that was something that couldn’t be buried, forgiven, or fixed. He had to wait her out, no matter how painful it was.

“Hey,” he said, and Shepard flinched at his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

When she turned around, she kept her gaze away, shadowed by the dark fan of her lashes. Then she looked up, straight into his eyes, hers gleaming and nearly black in the dim light of the night cycle. “Oh, I’m good.”

The words were maddeningly coy, like an inside joke, but his breath still hitched at the play of her tongue at her lips. Her thumb traced the scars on his mouth. “I’ll be even better soon.”

Kaidan’s tongue darted out to meet her nail, and she pressed forward. He ran his teeth along the pad, and Shepard’s eyes sparked. Instead of taking the initiative, Shepard idled for a moment, leaving her thumb, before Kaidan yanked her against him. One hand landed at the small of her back, and he drew her in as his mouth descended on his.

Her kiss was oddly tentative, stilted rather than falling into their usual rhythm. Kaidan nudged his tongue into Shepard’s mouth, but she didn’t respond by coiling her tongue into his. He was a foreign invader in what should’ve been a homeland.

For a moment, a rogue thought popped into his head. They’d never actually seen...but no, that was insane. There were the same inflections, the same movements, even the same gun-oil-and-spice scent. He couldn’t pick out the hint of palladium he associated with the post-Lazarus Shepard, but the burned-ceramic-and-eezo pressed into her under-suit overrode everything. He closed his eyes, willing the thoughts away.

Shepard found her bearings. She swept him away with a crushing kiss, her usual post-battle flush rising. With her gloves already off, she scored his shoulders through his shirt, stopping to press, to linger, before slipping underneath to bare skin. Kaidan gasped a bit at the sting of those nails, a moan escaping as she bit his earlobe. With unsteady hands, he unzipped her under-suit, kneeling to press kisses into each revealed inch of skin. His shirt came up over his head, tossed alongside the armor. She shrugged off the under-suit, peeling it away from her arms, and Kaidan stood back up to run his mouth along her collarbone.

His fingers coasted downwards, teasing at the straps of her bra, running along the swell of her hip. Her right hand came up to cup his cheek, and Kaidan found his eye drawn to her forearm. He tried to pull his eyes away, told himself to stop being paranoid, but they acted of their volition.

Shepard stilled, and then disentangled herself, fury gathering on her face. She held the inside of her forearm up to his face. “Since you obviously need proof I am who I say I am, here you are.”

 _Fléctere si néqueo súperos Acheronta movebo_ 4. The cream-inked script wasn’t meant to be easy for others to see; it was for her, or so she’d told him when he’d asked. No mention of it appeared in her scrubbed Alliance files, yet it meant enough to have redone when Miranda Lawson erased it with her scars. Ashamed as he was at the impulse, Kaidan couldn’t help the surge of relief at seeing it.

“I’m sorry,” Kaidan said, the words automatic, though for a brief, frustrated moment, he wondered when he’d finally get to stop apologizing, to get back to where they should be, but that wasn’t fair. She’d told him she forgave him, and he’d been the one whose doubts almost killed the Council, almost killed _her_.

Judging by her face, Shepard’s patience with him was wearing thin, and Kaidan’s throat closed in panic. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, kissing her still lips, desperate to recapture the moment.

“No, I get it,” she said easily, too easily, as she pulled away from him. “You still don’t trust I am who I say I am.”

Shepard turned on a heel and walked upstairs, not even sparing him a glance. Kaidan stood, paralyzed, before feeling rushed back and he followed. “Shepard, wait.”

“No, Major, I don’t think I’ll _wait_ ,” Shepard said, whirling to face him. Her eyes were coal-black. “I think you’ve made your feelings pretty damn clear.”

“It was just a brain freeze,” Kaidan protested, taking her wrist. Shepard didn’t pull away, so he took that as a good sign. “When I said I’d never doubt you again, I meant it.”

“Then what was that downstairs?” Her eyes were shuttered.

Kaidan breathed, letting the truth spill out of him. The words were never enough but it was all he could think to do. “Shepard, I _love_ you,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “I’ll tell you that as many times as I have to until you believe me.”

She kept his gaze, glaring at him for some vague, excruciating period of time before breaking. “Fuck,” she muttered, dragging her fingers through his hair, “I don’t _get_ you—sometimes.”

He tried to answer but Shepard ground her hips against him, her fingers on his amp and her teeth at the juncture between his jaw and his neck. Any words were lost in his gasp of pleasure, the shockwave in his system as she plastered herself against his bare torso. His hands scrabbled along her back, unsteady as they unhooked her bra and pushed it out of the way. His fingers were rough, grasping at her breasts, and Shepard arched into his hands. They fell back onto the bed, Shepard’s hands scrambling to unhook his fatigues.

Kaidan closed his eyes, and let the feel of Shepard carry him away.

 

 

**_eleven._ **

He hadn’t been asleep long; Kaidan guessed that much from the dull pressure at his temples and the sandpapery scrape of his eyelids as he cracked them open. Groggy, he groped for Shepard, but she was gone, though residual warmth lingered where she’d slept.

Rubbing his head, he turned towards a rustle. Shepard stood at the foot of the bed, half-dressed in a tank top and her fatigues.

“Mm,” he mumbled, words not yet forming in his half-awake daze. He stretched his arms over his head, enjoying the burn of the muscles. “So much for waking me.”

Shepard stiffened, her hand running over the omni-tool she’d been fastening to her arm. It looked bulkier than her usual Sirta Chameleon. “You seemed content,” she said, not looking up at him.

“Didn’t mean to pass out on you like that,” he said with a half-apologetic smile. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just getting an early start. Reapers to fight.”

“The Normandy won’t be ready for another three days,” Kaidan said. He sat up and patted the space next to him. “Why not enjoy the downtime? I think we could both use another sanity check.”

“My sanity’s fine,” Shepard said. She kept rooting about in the top drawer.

There was no acknowledgment, not even a hint she recognized the words. Kaidan’s throat worked rapidly, all the little details from the evening rushing back to him. Her stilted behavior. The way she’d thrown his doubts back in his face. Her _scent_.

_Oh my God._

Kaidan made smooth, deliberate movements, willing his body not to react as he pulled on his fatigues, using the fabric to hide his hand’s movements. He was about to execute his stasis mnemonic behind his shirt when the clone lunged for his Carnifex.

“Shit!” A reflexive biotic flare sent the clone flying into the wall opposite him. A hazy panic at seeing a Shepard-shaped figure slam that way seized Kaidan, but he recovered fast. So did the clone; she was up and had the pistol pointed at him.

 

 

“Th-that was clever,” Kaidan admitted, loathing the tremor in his voice, “the way you turned my doubts against me.”

“You made it so damn easy.” The clone had Shepard’s battle poise, but the cruel satisfaction on her face was so alien, Kaidan was sick at the thought he’d confused them. “So eager to please. We could go again if you’d like,” she sneered, glancing down at his cock.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Kaidan replied, crackling blue as his barrier formed. “Evil Cerberus clone isn’t really my type.”

“It was two hours ago.”

The clone fired, and Kaidan dodged, his barrier reeling as the particle clipped through the field. He cycled through his memories of sparring with Shepard back on the SR-1. She had a knack for leaning into biotic fields in ways that twisted them to her advantage, assuming he caught her at all. The clone might not have her practiced technique, but it had her instincts.

Wide area of effect would be the most efficient. Kaidan pushed out his barrier through the room, the ripple of dark energy catching every loose object in its own field. The clone shrieked, firing at him again as she darted into the closet.

“Where’s the real Shepard?” Kaidan’s fists glowed.

“Why? So you can compare our performances?”

Back at the Archives, he guessed, but Kaidan pushed that out of his head. All that mattered was killing the monster wearing Shepard’s face, the nightmare he’d feared back on Horizon. He pulled a new barrier around him, springing to his feet as he waited for the clone to reemerge—

—a crack of energy at his amp jack jerked his head backwards, electricity arcing through bones and nerves. Kaidan cried aloud at the pain, dropping to the ground as the wave scorched him. Every wire in his implant super-heated; every eezo nodule in his system self-immolated.

When the wave passed, he laid prone on the ground, staring into the hot orange gleam of a forked omni-blade. His brain crackled in time with the electric pulse of the blade, and he waited for it to descend.

Then it was gone, and Kaidan’s fiery brain stuttered as it attempted to process. A curse, pitched too high to be his, then shots fired. His vision whited out as another shock overwhelmed him.

He heard something crash into something solid and a muttered “Fuck,” before a CAT-6 sniper walked into his field of vision. Kaidan tried to croak a threat, a plea, anything, but his brain shorted out before words could escape.

The mercenary knelt down over him. Her hands wriggled under his neck to his amp jack. “No,” he cried, biotic instincts causing him to recoil.

“ _Kaidan_.” The helmet visor popped open.

 _Shepard_.

“You better not be another clone,” he rasped.

“Last time we were at Apollo’s they cooked your rib-eye medium well instead of medium rare and you spent five minutes explaining to the waiter why anything beyond medium rare is an insult to steak. You still ate it _and_ the fresh rib-eye they brought.” Shepard rolled her eyes. “And then you kept trying to get me to take a bite because you conveniently forget that _I’m a vegetarian_.”

Okay, definitely Shepard. He tried to sit up, but fell back when another jolt shocked his brain.

“I need to pull your amp.” She spoke in her sharp battlefield voice. “Can you lift your head?”

He wasn’t sure, but despite another shock, Shepard plucked the amp from his jack. It was as if a circuit had been cut inside his skull, the effect more stark than usual. Shepard took his hands, helping him sit up and reach the bed.

“You’re okay,” Kaidan said, feeling foolish the moment the words left his mouth. He reached out to cup her cheek, but Shepard spun out of his reach, moving to the weapon fabrication bench in the bedroom side chamber. “Where have you been?”

“She got the jump on me.” Shepard scowled at the bench. “Managed to lock me in one of those iridium vaults. Took me a while to find it, but there’s an internal release mechanism inside the vaults. Guess she’s not the first person to try that kind of thing.”

So while he’d been doing...that, Shepard sat alone in a vault. The half of Kaidan that pointed out _she_ was the one who bailed on them warred with the well of guilt opening inside him. His head throbbed, a flicker of energy making him flinch. “Do you know what she did to me?” Kaidan asked, rubbing the sore spot.

“There’s a bug in the Serrice Council L2 firmware,” Shepard said crisply, her hands dancing over the interface. “You can use the exploit to flood the amp VI with garbage data and trigger a chain overload. L3 and higher safeguards prevent overloads entirely.” She moved to the modification settings. “It’s not permanent, but have EDI reinstall the firmware on your amp before using it again.”

“But how did you—?” He felt like a broken omni-tool. As the pain of the shocks faded, the slight pinpricks at the back of his brain told him he’d be suffering later.

“Because I went looking for it.” Shepard dug through her spare gear as she waited for the gun to fabricate, pulling her spare tool. “Details don’t matter. I have to stop her.”

Kaidan shivered. Shepard was as cold as the clone she’d just chased away. “Is she indoctrinated?”

“Worse.” She bit out a short, bitter laugh. “She’s _angry_.”

“And your armor...?”

“She fried my suit’s onboard systems to kill my transponder,” Shepard explained, “so I found a dead sniper about my height and weight. Boots are a bit tight. I can’t risk people seeing both of us at once.” She plugged in her omni-tool. “This will do until I neutralize her.”

Kaidan wasn’t quite sure what to make of Shepard, all clipped movement and battlefield ice, back turned and walls higher than he’d ever seen them. Had she worked out what happened? “Shepard,” he said, trying to figure out a way to break down her reserve, “I thought...I never meant to—”

“That’s not important now.” She didn’t look at him. “I sent an alert to the rest of the team. Should probably call Chakwas too to check you over.”

“Don’t. I’m fine,” he lied, standing up. He fought a wave of nausea. “You don’t have to rush off.”

“The longer I stand here, Kaidan, the more distance she puts between us.” Shepard lifted a Black Widow from the fabricator, a bad sigh. She preferred the lighter, low-recoil Valiant, or the pure stopping power of the original Widow for infiltration missions where she’d have time to set up a shot. The Black Widow, Shepard once told him, was for going at it alone.

She was running again. Kaidan had to convince her not to, because the last time she disappeared, she’d been locked in a vault and he ended up with her clone’s hands all over him.

 _Oh God._ Kaidan gagged, and it wasn’t from the impending migraine.

“I have to do this, Kaidan,” and she sounded almost normal when she said it. “Don’t try and follow me. Get the crew together and lock yourselves in.”

“No!” Kaidan said. He tugged her arm, using his grip to make her face him. He circled her pulse with her thumb, combing his mind for a way to make Shepard understand what a terrible idea this was. “This isn’t like you, Shepard,” he managed, his mouth not firing quite right.

Shepard pried his fingers off her arm, snapped up a few spare clips, and walked out. She paused at the bedroom door, turning back to him. To Kaidan’s amazement, her eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

“How would you know?” she asked. Not bitter, not accusing. Just sad.

And then she was gone.

 _Again_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 “Hail Mary” prayer. _Hail Mary, full of grace, Our Lord is with you._  
>  2 _chilito_ – little dick.  
>  3 “Hail Mary” prayer. _Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus._  
>  4 Virgil's _Aeneid_ , Book VII, 312. Loosely translates to, “If I cannot bend Heaven, I will move Hell.”


	5. Operation: Killswitch

**_one._ **

The shower water had cooled to tepid when he first heard the apartment doors open, but Kaidan didn’t move. Staying upstairs and scrubbing was safer, let him not think about what he’d say downstairs, not think of the cold twist of the clone’s mouth, and not think of Shepard, barely able to look his direction.

“Uh...Kaidan?”

Kaidan couldn’t hide forever, but Garrus’s voice from the bedroom still caught him off guard. A brief biotic flicker skittered down his torso.

That wasn’t right. Kaidan controlled his nervous system, not the other way around. Failed science experiment or not, that was a point of pride.

“One minute,” he called to Garrus, shutting off the water. He toweled off haphazardly, still dripping as he wrapped the towel around his torso and walked into the bedroom.

Garrus stood by the wall, poking at the bullet holes left by the clone. His eyes crossed when he saw Kaidan.

“Uh...” His head cocked to one side, mandibles flexing. “You’re red as a klixen.”

Kaidan glanced at himself. Between the shower and the scrubbing with one of Shepard’s fancy sponges, he was a bright tomato red. “Must’ve had the water running too hot.” Not hot enough, in his opinion.

“Sure,” Garrus agreed, stepping backwards. “I’ll, uh, let you put some clothes on.”

By the time he made it downstairs, most of the crew had arrived, the air soupy from tension. They’d all been flattened, damped down by shock and exhaustion. Or maybe he was projecting.

“Kaidan.” Liara stood up, her eyes solemn. “Are you all right?”

_No_. “Fine. Is everyone here?”

“We’re still waiting for a few people.” Liara bit her lip, but didn’t explain. Another biotic current coasted down Kaidan’s arms.

He focused outward, looking at who had arrived. Offhand he didn’t see Wrex. That was an alarming sign. If Wrex was angry enough with Shepard after what she’d admitted in the Archives, Council relations with the krogan would suffer for it.

“Garrus and Tali want to examine your bedroom for other clues,” Liara said.

“That’s fine. My amp’s sitting on the desk. Tali or EDI should probably examine it.” He plopped onto the sofa, avoiding looking anyone in the eye. Did they know what happened? Could they guess?

“You sure you should be up about, Major? Shepard said the clone attacked you.” Cortez had a full shot glass, which he clinked with James’s glass before they both downed the contents. Kaidan eyed the tequila bottle on the coffee table enviously.

“I said I was fine,” he reminded them, crossing his arms. Despite the attack, his implant hadn’t flared up, though Kaidan suspected his reprieve was temporary. He had the battlefield meds ready, the semi-legal cocktail he used in the middle of long engagements. Some of the drugs weren’t the safest, especially for someone who had past chemical dependency issues, so Kaidan saved them for emergencies.

This definitely qualified as an emergency.

“I see you’re as stubborn as Javik.” Liara put a hand to her forehead.

Kaidan seized on the topic change. “Is he okay? He looked pretty busted up in the Archives.”

She dropped her head into her hands, her lips curling down as she motioned to her right. “See for yourself.”

Javik stood behind Shepard’s dining table, executing his lift mnemonic repetitively. His lips pulled back in a snarl as faint green sparks played around the model, there was no movement of the toy ship. Joker watched with a smirk.

“Javik received a heavy dose of Omega-Enkaphalin, a biotic suppressor.” _Invented by Cerberus_ , a cynical part of Kaidan oh-so-helpfully supplied. “He’s fortunate Chakwas knew how to synthesize an antidote, but we don’t yet know if there will be permanent damage. His physiology is fundamentally different from the aliens of our cycle.”

Kaidan winced. For all the head and heartache his biotics brought him over the years, the thought of losing them made his insides curl on themselves.

“I believe he was deliberately targeted,” Liara continued. “Normally Javik would be able to tell the difference between Shepard and her clone with his extrasensory abilities, but it appears the drug suppressed that. I’ve already begun formulating a theory that the Protheans’ touch-sensory ability is based on a cellular interaction with residual traces of dark energy—”

“So you’re saying someone planned for Shepard and the clone to switch places?” Kaidan interrupted. He didn’t have the patience for Liara’s scientific meandering right now.

“Oh. Yes,” Liara said with a nod. “That too."

_This isn’t like you, Shepard._

_How would you know?_

So a Prothean would have known what Kaidan hadn’t. Did she hate him for it? Why that why she’d fled? Or had she cared more about killing her clone than what he’d done? He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the bile in his throat down.

The doors slid open, and in walked Brooks, ashen skin and eyes like marbles. Old tear tracks had dried on her cheeks. She peered around, like a deer assessing predators. “Uh, hello?”

“Hey, _chica_.” James tipped his empty shot glass to her. “Glad to see you’re all right.”

Brooks blinked rapidly, her lips tremulous. “This is all my fault, Major,” she said, her voice a whimper. “I watched the whole fight and I still got it all wrong.”

James leaped up, bounding to the weeping woman. He folded her into a hug. “There there _, chica_ ,” he murmured. “It’s not your fault.”

No. It was Kaidan’s.

“See?” Brooks wailed. “This is why I’m not a field agent!”

Getting thrown into the Normandy’s antics couldn’t be easy on the best of days. This was not the best of days. Dark thoughts started gathering on the horizon, but a touch to the shoulder pulled Kaidan back.

“It would help if you told us what happened,” Liara said. She motioned to the seating area. Brooks’s noisy sobbing quieted to sniffles.

What could he tell them? That the clone found the softest, weakest parts of him, warped the promise Kaidan made to himself to trust in Shepard? That when she came, she was lust-black eyes and snarling curses, never soft grunts and hard-bitten lips? That he was a fucking idiot who couldn’t tell the difference between _his_ Shepard and the monster wearing her face?

Maybe he’d been doomed from the start. Shepard was a study in redaction, black lines bleeding through history, the living embodiment of negative space. Kaidan learned more about her in the last 24 hours than in all years he’d loved her, and that was rock salt ground into a gaping gut shot.

“We came home and went to sleep,” Kaidan replied woodenly. He took a breath, a pause in lieu of what he couldn’t say aloud. “When I woke up, she was already dressed. I said something the real Shepard would’ve recognized. We fought, she shocked me, got the jump. And then Shepard showed up. She picked up her spare omni-tool, changed her loadout, and left.” _Happy, now?_ he almost tacked on to the end, but he wasn’t so far gone as that.

“Any other details you could give us would be helpful, Major.” Not even EDI gave voice to the chasms in his story the organics in the room disregarded.

Kaidan raked his hands through his hair. “She said to stay here, lock the doors, and not follow her.”

Explosion coming in five, four, three, two...

“But we’re ignoring that, right?”

“Solo operations have a 218.7% increased chance of death.”

“What the hell is Shepard thinking?”

“She _isn’t_ thinking. She’s had her head up her ass since Thessia.”

“Has Lola  gone _loca_ for real this time?”

He rubbed his temples, tuning out the bickering. As desperately as wanted to run Shepard to ground, someone had to keep a cool head. Even if that someone had a touchy, slightly-warm implant thrumming at his skull.

Tali and Garrus appeared at the top of the stairwell. “Any luck finding clues?” Liara asked.

“Negative.” Garrus gripped the railing, shooting odd glances at Kaidan.

“I did download what data remained from Kaidan’s amp.” Tali’s omni-tool fired up, her mask illuminated by the soft orange glow. “It appears the clone used a specially designed virus to flood the amp’s VI with garbage data, bypassing its usual safeguards. It would create a series of shocks that would disorient a biotic, making executing a mnemonic almost impossible.”

_Because I went looking for it_. “That’s what she said.”

“Damn, Kaidan.” Joker winced. “Your timing’s worse than EDI’s.”

“I heard that, Jeff.” EDI recently mastered glaring, and Joker cringed, shooting her an apologetic glance.

“No, I meant...” Kaidan’s brow furrowed as he dug through the hazy memories. “Shepard told me that. She said she went looking for it. The flaw.”

Liara titled her head. “Shepard...designed a program to incapacitate you?”

_Do they know how many ways you’ve killed them inside your head?_ When the clone had thrown her taunts in Shepard’s face, Kaidan hadn’t expected them to be so literal.

“He’s lucky.” Tali’s omni-tool projected a chart. “The clone used a very low voltage. Anything higher, right through his brain, would have killed him.”

Everyone turned assess him, and Kaidan rubbed his neck. He didn’t feel lucky.

“Do we even know what she was after?” Cortez toyed with his shot glass.

Kaidan blinked. The clone took his omni-tool, a detail initially lost in the aftermath of the fight and Shepard’s second disappearance. “My omni-tool.” The words were thick on his tongue. “I think she downloaded data from it.”

“Do we know what she wanted in the Archives?” Brooks asked. “The confrontation between the two of them happened so fast, I couldn’t tell what she did.”

“Then let’s assume she found it.” Liara opened her omni-tool, flipping through data.

“Wasn’t her plan to take over the Normandy?” Cortez stroked his chin. “If she got what she wanted, she could kill the Major and bolt while we were all sleeping off the last mission.”

“Yeah, but why come back for Kaidan’s omni-tool?” Joker kept stealing glances back to Javik’s fruitless efforts to lift the Normandy model. “She wants the Normandy. What does his tool have to do with it?”

“I believe I can answer that.”

EDI radiated a weird joy whenever she mastered a new facial expression. Today her smug competence would sit well even on Shepard’s face. “When Staff Analyst Brooks first informed me that Shepard’s Alliance access had been hacked, I placed Shepard on a three-day medical leave, temporarily removing her as Commanding Officer of the Normandy.”

They turned to EDI in confusion. “You can do that?” Joker demanded. “Also, did you give command to me? You did give it me, right?”

“Unfortunately, Jeff, that was not possible.” She paused to shoot Joker an apologetic look. “Admiral Hackett himself input the Normandy’s chain of command designations, and he registered Major Alenko as the Normandy’s Executive Officer. It was a simple switch, and with an email to the Alliance informing them Shepard had the flu, no VI monitors detected an anomaly.”

“So the clone can’t fly away with Shepard’s command codes,” Garrus said, his mandibles flexing. “She needs Kaidan’s.”

“Command codes may be insufficient. Authorizing the change would require a voice print. Alliance systems are statistically impossible to fool.”

Brooks bit at her nails. “That was very clever of you, EDI.”

“No cunning was necessary. I analyzed all possible consequences of a security leak and took proactive measures for the good of the crew. But I appreciate the compliment, Staff Analyst Brooks.” She smiled at the still-jumpy woman.

Joker made a face. “And you’re just telling us this now?”

“I have been monitoring footage from security cameras within 300 meters of the Normandy’s dock. The clone has made no attempt to breach this perimeter.” EDI put her hand to her chin. “I may also have wished to evoke a sense of dramatic suspense.”

Joker grinned. “What, an overclocked humor chronometer not enough for you?”

Something in Kaidan’s brain still itched. Well, something other than his implant. The edge to the clone's voice, and to Shepard, suggested a different story.

Kaidan might not know Shepard as well as he’d hoped, but he knew when she had some grand vision in her head the rest of them couldn’t see. He’d seen it in the off-hours on the SR-1 as she turned the beacon’s vision in her mind, on Horizon, on Mars, on Rannoch and Despoina. Her movements became efficient, precise, and her eyes fixed forward. There was never time to explain, and she never looked back to see if her team matched the pace she set. Keeping up with Shepard when she slipped into that mode was grueling.

“So the Normandy’s safe,” Cortez commented.

“No.” Tali twisted her fingers around one another. “The clone is Shepard, and Shepard is a ghost when she wants to be. We can’t rule anything out.”

“So then we just find Shepard and get everything straightened out.” Garrus’s claws tapped along the banister. “Any idea where to begin looking? Other than every catwalk on the Citadel?”

There were a lot of sidelong glances and awkward coughs. Even Liara looked flummoxed. “I don’t suppose you’ve gotten back your special touching?” Joker asked Javik. “That sounded way less dirty in my head.”

“Compared to everything else in there, it probably is,” Tali murmured to Garrus.

“I am recovering,” Javik replied, still concentrating on the model ship, “but not recovered.”

Joker scratched his beard. “Any chance you could hurry that up?”

“Do not test my patience, pilot.”

“Or what? You’ll hold your hand out at me in a threatening way? In case you haven’t noticed, buddy, you’ve been defanged—”

Javik picked up the model Normandy, pointed it at Joker, and launched it straight at him.

“HEY!” Joker shuffled out of the plane’s trajectory, crumpling into a heap of limbs at EDI’s feet. “Ow,” he whined, staring dolefully up at EDI.

Kaidan snorted, a snicker escaping from him. Puffs of laughter spurted from the corners of James’s mouth. Cortez coughed, Tali was silent even as her body shook, and Garrus’s mandibles fluttered fast. Even Liara discreetly turned her head away, a hand over her mouth.

EDI gazed down at Joker. “While I am sympathetic to your predicament, my responsibility chronometer has concluded with 97.6% certainty that you instigated that conflict.”

“EDI.” Joker groaned. “Hiding your snark behind a bunch of technobabble doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“Very well. You deserved that, Jeff.” She held her hand out, helping Joker to a standing position. He wobbled, checking himself over before giving them the thumbs-up.

“Okay, but we still don’t know—”

The doors opened.

The woman walking in was a sex-appeal shock bomb, curves and softness exaggerated to near-comical proportions, a construct of yearning invitation. In contrast, the brisk clip of her walk and her eyes, a frosty, north-Pacific blue, demanded he keep his distance.

Brooks started, jumping from the piano bench where she sat. Behind him, Tali groaned. “Keelah, what’s _she_ doing here?”

“Always a pleasure, Tali’Zorah.” She strode into the room, dark hair swinging. “Dr. T’Soni invited me.”

Miranda Lawson had changed since Kaidan last saw her on Horizon, mocking his loyalty to the Alliance. Once a hunter, she hadn’t taken well to being the hunted. Fine lines gathered around her eyes and mouth, her skin was waxy, and he spotted a chip in her manicure.

Last year on Horizon, he’d loathed her. Now, with time and context, he was a knotted mess of frustration, admiration, and gratitude. More emotions he wasn’t prepared to process.

“Miranda.” Liara gave Miranda a sharp nod, unspoken tension crackling between them. They’d worked together, Kaidan realized. Miranda would have assumed custody of Shepard’s...of Shepard after Liara found her. “Thank you for coming. I know you have...other priorities right now.”

“Right.” Miranda opened her omni-tool. “I understand you’ve misplaced Shepard. I should have put a bell on that woman.”

Kaidan might have snarled at Miranda’s flippant reference to Project Lazarus had it not been for the softening of her features, the faint warmth taking the edge off her perpetual frost. She took that cue from Shepard, whose irreverence towards her Cerberus enhancements never ceased to amaze Kaidan.

They were friends, and good ones. According to Garrus they’d shot at each other a few times first. By other accounts they should have murdered each other.

Kaidan wasn’t sure if it was some twisted doctor/patient thing, pure gratitude, or something altogether different.  Maybe they had that much in common.  Both had a whip-crack intelligence, saw endless possibilities where none should exist.

She led, and they followed, to the conference area. Kaidan expected Miranda to direct their meeting, but she looked to Liara instead.

Tali interrupted before Liara could speak. “Did you know about the clone?” Her fist pounded on the table.

Miranda sneered, dismissing Tali’s question. “Absolutely not. The Illusive Man tasked me with bringing back Shepard, and my work is always impeccable. I don’t deal in cheap copies and loose ends. When necessary, I cloned organs and tissue individually.”

“Which organs?” Kaidan immediately regretted asking.

Miranda recited, “Swaths of skin, the right kidney, parts of her right lung, her entire—” Miranda cut herself off, her lips parted. She didn’t continue, as if waiting for someone to save her.

“Come on, Miranda,” Garrus said with a strained grin. “Knowing you, you already have a plan.”

She brightened. “As it happens, I do.” She pulled a small device from a shoulder holster. “During Project Lazarus I installed a tracker in Shepard’s femur.”

“So what you’re saying is you did put a bell on her,” Joker said.

Kaidan clenched his jaw and his fists, straining to keep from telling Miranda what he thought of _that_. Tali picked up the gauntlet for him. “So all of this time, Cerberus has—”

“It’s never been activated!” Miranda cut off Tali’s tirade. “The Illusive Man explicitly forbade me from installing any sort of electronic leash. He knew the first thing Shepard would do was check for any sort of internal monitoring systems. He wanted to gain her trust.”

“Right.” Joker rolled his eyes. “Gain Shepard’s trust so he can betray her five times later. Sounds like Illusive Man math to me.”

“The Illusive Man has no idea it exists,” Miranda continued. She held up the tracker, the metal glinting as she turned it over. “This is the only way to activate the signal. I wanted to be prepared in case Shepard went rogue. Later, I kept it in case she got into a fix.”

“You should have destroyed it,” Kaidan said despite himself.

“You can’t possibly blame me,” Miranda snapped, despite that clearly being what everyone in the room was doing. “The woman’s some bizarre mutant cross between Blasto and Rikki-Tikki-Tavi.”

“Rikki-Taki-who?” Tali asked.

Miranda’s eyes narrowed at the sea of blank faces. “The mongoose? Rudyard Kipling? Not even the humans?” She put her face in her palm. “Philistines.”

Cortez sighed. “So...you gonna help us, or insult our lack of literary knowledge?”

“Once the tracker is activated, you can key the signal into any omni-tool.” She tossed it in the air, catching it with her perfect reflexes. “From there, finding Shepard should be simple enough.”

“So that’s it.” Liara’s voice rose, a real smile crossing her face. “We turn on the tracker and—”

“Is that wise?”

Having lost the Normandy as a target, Javik had moved into the kitchen, concentrating on lifting a cutting board. He spoke as if from a distance, his body still entwined in the task of forcing itself well.

“Is what wise?” Liara crossed her arms.

He ignored her, kept trying to lift the board. “The Commander spoke clearly: do not follow her. Why would we disobey?”

“What are you talking about? Of course we’re following her.” Tali put her hands on her hips. “She needs our help.”

Javik turned from the board. “Does she? The Commander is capable, and she has left us before.”

“Omega? That was different.” Garrus’s mandibles flared wide, showing his teeth. “Shepard had Aria T’Loak and her personal army as backup, and Omega was a high-level war asset. We all agreed...eventually. This time, Shepard left us behind.”

“Then this is not about your desire to assist. You resent her decision.”

“Damn right I resent her decision!” Garrus rocked on his heels, mandibles quivering lightning-quick. “I’ve been on Shepard’s side from the beginning. There’s nothing I could hear that would change that.”

“Shepard’s biometric readings while proceeding through the Citadel Archives spiked unusually high, even for Shepard,” EDI added. “Her decision to abandon the group was made under extreme emotional duress.”

“‘Abandon.’” Javik’s mouth moved, tasting the word on his tongue. “An interesting word choice, synthetic.”

EDI glared at Javik. “My word choice is precise.”

“Garrus is right.” Liara tilted her chin up. “Nothing we learn about Shepard would change our feelings about her.”

“Especially since you already know everything about her.”

The words slithered past his lips before he could rein them in. Kaidan fought to keep from putting his hand to his mouth. Liara spun to face him, startled, her eyes dark. Her mouth opened, and then snapped shut.

With a grunt, she twisted away, choosing not to engage. Kaidan’s nails dug into his palms. His anger was a tangible thing, with a wide range of targets but no real focus. He breathed hard, winded by keeping it at bay.

“Do you know something, Javik?” Liara asked, ignoring Kaidan.

Javik’s eyes narrowed. “When I touched the Commander, I sought only what I wished to know. The remainder of her...” Javik turned from them, deep in thought. “How would I describe this to primitives? She was dark spaces, faded shapes moving behind old, cracked glass. To continue into was to invite consequence. I was not wanted, and what need have I of another’s pain?” He flashed a vicious, toothy glare at Liara.

“I didn’t realize your ability had limits,” Liara remarked, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

“Secrets and lies exist in all cycles. That is how the Reapers destroy us.” Javik touched his chin. “Had the Commander lived at the time of the Empire, she would have been trained as _adezsatha_ , one who is absent from the self. Our greatest spies could weave their lies into their very DNA.” He turned back to the board, executing a vicious yanking mnemonic. The cutting board trembled a bit as it glowed, rocking like an old coin.

Kaidan looked around. Same thing everyone else was doing, from the looks of it. Sussing everyone else thoughts out. Only Miranda stayed steady, checking her omni-tool. “What are you saying, Javik?” Kaidan was pure granite, tight lines like fissions in stone.

The last Prothean shuttered his expression. “I am saying nothing. I offer a perspective.” A perspective that resonated, no matter how badly Kaidan wanted to go after Shepard.

_Don’t try to follow me. Get the crew together and lock yourselves in._

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea,” Brooks said. “This clone seems very dangerous. Activating the tracker is our best hope, Major.”

“I’m not here to make that decision,” Miranda said. “I’m offering resources, nothing more." To his surprise, she held the tracker out to him. Kaidan stared at the little device, not sure what she meant for him to do. “You should keep this. She’d want you to decide.”

Liara visibly swallowed, her mouth pressed thin. “I don’t think there’s a question what we’ll decide, Miranda.”

Miranda ignored Liara, still holding out the tracker to him. He took it, turning it over as she had. “Do you know why Shepard doesn’t have any scars, Major?”

Kaidan stared down at the tracker in his hands. “You had to use synthetic skin grafts?”

“False.” Miranda drummed the table surface with her chipped fingernails. “It’s one thing to restore a cell.  It’s another thing to bring back a cell that was damaged and keep it that way, precisely damaged as it had been before. The Illusive Man allowed some compromises, but the brain was not one of them. Compared to that, her skin was child’s play.”

Kaidan thought of Shepard on Ilos. A red tangle on the back of her neck. Half-moons between her thighs. Punctures and burns, knots of tissue beneath the skin. He touched the scars on his lips automatically, remembering Jump Zero, a backhand with claws.

“I erased her scars, because that’s what Shepard does. She dismisses anything that causes her pain, and once Shepard dismisses something, she doesn’t look back. I watched her tell the Alliance and the Council she didn’t need them to do right by the galaxy. When she met Aria T’Loak, she quoted the Book of Revelations, as if her resurrection were nothing. But on Horizon? On Horizon, Shepard looked back. It was the only time she did.”

Miranda eyes were soft, with an understanding etched in them Kaidan would never expect from someone so cold. He closed his eyes, fingers clasping the tracker while his thumb traced the edges of it.

“I’m not turning it on,” Kaidan said.

Explosion in five, four, three, two...

“We’re not going after Lola?”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Keelah, what are you thinking?”

“Kaidan, maybe you should reconsider this...”

“Shepard needs our help, Kaidan!”

Liara’s assertion cut through the noise coming at him. “Shepard’s a big girl,” Kaidan said. He pressed a hand to a now-throbbing spot at the back of his head. “She can handle herself. If she doesn’t want us getting in her way, then maybe we should respect that.”

“We are not getting in her way!” Tali cried. She clapped a hand to her suit speaker, practically vibrating.

Garrus cleared his throat. “Come on, Kaidan—”

“One thing I’ve learned about Shepard,” Kaidan said quietly, “is that she’ll always go places we can’t follow her. I can accept that. Why can’t the rest of you?”

“Because you give up!” Liara yelled, her face turning a furious blue-violet shade. “You buried yourself when she died; you turned your back on her on Horizon—”

“You want to talk about Horizon, Liara?” Kaidan snarled, his shoulders tensing. “Was it too much trouble to let the rest of us know Shepard might walk into the room at any moment?”

“You would’ve tried to stop me!”

“Damn right I would’ve!” He approached her, leaning in close. “Do you have any idea how much you risked, giving Shepard to them? Did you even think about what Shepard would want?”

“Maybe we should—” Cortez began.

“Dude, you’re really gonna give Liara crap for giving Shepard’s body to Cerberus when you’re banging that reanimated corpse?” Joker’s face was pure disbelief.

“I can be grateful she’s alive and still horrified about what was done to her,” Kaidan countered, nauseated from the visual. “And if you _ever_ refer to Shepard that way again...” He flared deliberately, and Joker backed away. Kaidan let his corona disperse, loathing the impulse almost as much as the words that spurred it.

“Shepard wasn’t horrified.” Tali was smug, the hard light in her eyes blazing through her visor.

“No, Shepard didn’t _act_ horrified,” Miranda corrected. “Whether or not she was is a question you can’t answer. The only overt symptom she showed was her sudden allergy to helmets in breathable atmospheres. I never should’ve told her I armor-plated her skull.”

“You’re not helping, Miranda,” Tali said frostily.

But that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? The reason Liara was purple-faced, the reason he had goosebumps from static. They didn’t know, because Shepard wouldn’t let them. He put a fist to his forehead, trying, and not succeeding, in controlling his temper. If anyone here had a reason to look for Shepard and her clone, he did.

“The galaxy needed Shepard. Cerberus presented the best solution.” Liara’s chin rose.

Garrus groaned, head in his talons. “Uh, Liara? You said yourself back on Ilium you couldn’t let Shepard go.”

“You’re one to talk, when Shepard saved you after _you_ ran off to commit suicide on Omega!” Liara’s blue-tinged fury reverberated through the room, leaving stunned expressions in its wake. Kaidan took a step backwards.

Garrus’s mandibles snapped in close, his stance pure apex predator. “We were all heartbroken when Shepard died, T’Soni. Don’t act like your pain was more special than ours.”

“I was the only one who was willing to do what it took to bring her back!” Liara yelled, blazing a furious blue. Kaidan flared back, an instinctive response to the escalating energy of the room.

“Oh shit, we got coronas!” Joker ducked behind a wall. After a moment, James, Brooks and Cortez joined him. Miranda flared as well, although judging by her impassive face, hers was a defensive move. Even Tali and Garrus took a few steps back. Only EDI stood her ground.

“Everyone in this room has made contributions to the Reaper war effort, Liara.”

“But _I_ found her body—”

“With Cerberus intel,” Miranda amended under her breath.

“ _I_ tracked down the Shadow Broker—”

“Also with Cerberus intel,” Miranda added.

“—and _I_ found the plan for the Crucible!” Liara's voice had reached a fevered pitch, but Miranda just rolled her eyes. “Does that mean nothing to you?”

“ _Listen_ to yourself, Liara!” Garrus slammed his talons on the table. “We’re in a war for our survival!”

Kaidan throttled back another dark energy surge. “Liara, we’re all grateful for what you’ve done, but that doesn’t mean you have some kind of claim on Shepard.”

“My people are dying on Thessia while Shepard runs off alone to fight her clone!” Tears followed jagged paths down Liara’s cheeks. “Do any of you know how much I’ve sacrificed? All of it was for her, for her war!”

“Last I checked, Doc, the Reapers are gonna roll over all of us,” James pointed out in an even tone. When the glares turned on him, he backed away, saying, “Okay, I get it.”

“No one asked you to go to the ends of the galaxy for Shepard,” Kaidan retorted. “You did that all on your own.”

“Well, strictly speaking, Cerberus did ask,” Miranda remarked. “Not that she needed much of a push.” That earned Miranda a special don’t-go-there-now glare from Kaidan with a complimentary threatening corona flare.

“It was better than letting the Reapers use her body for their twisted experiments!”

“Tell me, Liara.”  Kaidan’s voice was a dusty rasp, eezo choking in his lungs. “After you took over the Shadow Broker’s network, what was the first file you looked up?”

Liara swallowed, eyes sliding guiltily away. “The Reapers were coming, and only Shepard—”

“Don’t.” Kaidan shook his head, his corona bleeding at the edges. “Don’t pretend it was about the Reapers.”

“I—” This time, Liara was at a genuine loss for words, her corona sputtering. She glowered at Kaidan.

“Stop this!” Tali’s arms swept up as she interjected. “Liara is right! You’re walking away from her, just like you did on Horizon!”

“Uh, Tali?” Garrus put his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you should take a moment—”

“I don’t need a moment, bosh’tet!” She wrenched herself away from Garrus, thrusting her chin to Kaidan’s face. “Shepard needs you. How can you abandon her again?”

“I’m not abandoning her!” Kaidan said through gritted teeth, trying to get a grip on how quickly he’d lost control of this whole argument. “I’m trying to respect her wishes.”

“Turn on the tracker, Kaidan,” Liara growled, her fists balled and blazing with energy.

Kaidan stepped forward, glaring her down, his corona hissing and crackling as her biotics clashed with his. “No.”

“ _Damn you_ , _Kaidan_ —”

“QUIET!”

Wrex’s roar burst through the tension and shattered their tongues, left them gawking in silence as he stomped into the kitchen. “Listen to you noisy pyjaks. Shepard’s gone a few hours and you’re already squabbling like infants over their first kill.” He was puffed up, arms and legs splayed threateningly across his space.

“You weren’t too thrilled with Shepard either,” Joker remarked.

Wrex marched into Joker's space. He loomed over the pilot, every kilo of his bulk pressing into the air. Joker gulped, leaning backwards. “It’s. His. Damn. Call.”

Javik nodded. “The krogan is right. Ah, such odd things I say in this cycle.”

Liara let out a short, disbelieving huff, backing away from Kaidan as her corona died away. “I know by now to expect this from _you_ ,” she sneered at Javik, “but I thought better of you, Kaidan. _Shepard_ deserves better.”

“Liara.” Garrus warned her in a low, menacing voice.

Kaidan swallowed, hating the truth in her words. “I don’t think what Shepard deserves is up to us to decide, Liara.”

“Bosh’tet,” Tali stormed out the room, slamming a door behind her.

So that was it. You spent your whole career being the best you could be, trying to do right by people, and all everyone remembered was the ten minutes you fell apart.

He heard Wrex stomp out. Despite the automatic system, the door boomed as it closed behind Wrex.

“So,” Brooks said with forced cheer. “What’s the decision?”

Everything collapsed inside him at once: memories of the clone’s fingers on his skin, the sickening whorl of his stomach, Liara and Tali’s razor-edged words. Shepard’s eyes before she walked away, because she was always walking away, always leaving him behind to pick up the shards of himself.

“You know what?” Kaidan scrubbed his forehead. “You guys go do whatever you need to do. But the tracker stays off.”

 

 

**_two._ **

Crying inside her visor was the worst. The vacuum vents caught her tears instead of letting them roll down her cheeks, but the salt and water vapor hung in the air, and she was _moist_.

Keelah, it was disgusting.

The first words out of Tali’s mouth when Garrus walked in the bedroom were “Don’t look at me.”

“Uh...sure.” Garrus pivoted about thirty degrees, pointing himself away. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it!” She yelled so loudly that her suit speakers crackled. The sound bounced around inside her helmet like falling rocks. “Who is Kaidan to judge Liara? Or any of us? He’s the one who decided the Alliance was more important than stopping the Reapers!”

Garrus held up his hands. “Uh, Tali, I don’t think—”

“He just let her walk away.” She slammed her fist into the bed. “Like she meant nothing to him. Like they hadn’t meant anything to each other! And now he wants to do it again!”

“Tali, I think you’re—”

“He doesn’t have a right to be hurt! How could she trust him? How could she trust anyone when the Fl-Alliance just turned their backs on her because of _politics_ and he hid behind _honor_ and _duty_! Then when those bosh’tets get themselves in trouble, suddenly she’s the only one who can help—”

“ _Tali!_ ” Garrus gripped Tali’s arms, the talons pressing in hard enough to feel their tips through her suit. “ _I am sorry about Lieutenant Reegar_.”

It was as if her enviro-suit burst, emotions spilling through carefully inspected seals and joins, letting the infection take hold. Tali sobbed, barely kept standing by Garrus’s firm hold. He pulled her into an embrace, his head settling on her helmet as she cried.

“We weren’t – we weren’t ever really together. A couple weeks.” The words slipped between choking sobs. Garrus guided her to the bed, sitting them both down.

Hers wasn’t an all-consuming grief, like Kaidan’s slow crash beginning that sunrise on Alchera. This was an abscess, but right now, the world pressed down on that tender spot.

Tali wrapped her arms around Garrus, the bulk of his armor comforting despite the angles. She rested her chin on the lip and closed her eyes. “Keelah, you must think I’m mad.”

Garrus’s eyes darted back and forth across the room. “I think you’re angry,” he ventured. “Even with retaking your homeworld, you’ve lost a lot to this war.”

“I didn’t ask him to join me in exile. I wasn’t that selfish. It was so _lonely_ , Garrus.”

“I know.” Garrus patted her helmet, shifting uncomfortably.

“I got a letter.” Tali sniffled. “I got it when he – he said he never stopped thinking about me, but he needed to stay and protect the Fleet if the Reapers came. That was Kal. He just did what was right. He wouldn’t have been the person I – I knew if he’d left with me. And he would have _hated_ exile.”

“But.” It was a statement, without judgment. Maybe Garrus wanted to leave her an opening. Or maybe Garrus just didn’t know what to say. Who did, in this war?

Tali couldn’t ignore that ugly question cannibalizing her stomach. “Am I terrible for wishing he’d done the wrong thing?”

Garrus was quiet for a long time. “As the galaxy’s worst turian, I might not be the best person to ask about doing the right thing.” A talon brushed her visor.

“You’re not a bad turian,” Tali said solemnly, and there was that wrench in her heart again, because she was happy, happy she was here with Garrus, but everything inside her tangled like wires. “You’re the best turian I know.”

“Heh.” Garrus ducked his head, mandibles fluttering. Was he feeling bashful?

“Kal was special, but I don’t think I was in love with him.” Tali needed Garrus to know that. “But he was...I could have...I think I’m mourning what could have been as much as I mourn him? It’s not _rational_ , the way I feel. But I can’t stop it. And then I see Kaidan with Shepard and...”

“You just wish Kal’s evil clone would attack you?”

 Tali snorted, laughing through her tears. “That’s terrible!”

Garrus pointed at himself. “See? Bad turian.”

“I still disagree,” Tali said, snuggling as close as full-body armor and an enviro-suit allowed. “It’s wrong, but when I see him, my pressure seals pop.”

“Yeah, I understand. Grief is weird.” Garrus touched his forehead to her visor. “But it’s not an excuse, Tali.”

“I know.” Tali tried to swallow another sob, but it rose up anyway, hitching in her throat. She needed to get out of here. Away from this apartment and its seething anger. They’d been putting up fronts for Shepard’s sake for months now, and in her absence all that stored-up pain rolled out of them.

Also, she couldn’t face Kaidan yet. Not after lashing out at him like a sulky youth waiting for her Pilgrimage. “Let’s go to C-Sec.”

Garrus sat back, his brow plates and mandibles drawn close into a tight triangle. “That’s a big subject change.”

“I mean it.” She shook his arm. “Even if we found Shepard with Miranda’s tracker, she might not let us help her. But if we could locate the clone’s accomplice...”

He scratched a mandible. “So you want to infiltrate C-Sec.”

“Yes!” Tali leaned close, hoping he saw her smile.

She expected him to flash his carefree turian grin and follow, but Garrus hesitated. “Shepard also told us to stick together.”

It hadn’t occurred to her Garrus might _agree_ with Kaidan. “I thought you’d be pushing to use the tracker.”

“I’d like to, but...” Garrus sighed. “The clone’s dangerous, and Shepard’s behavior makes me nervous. I’m not sure we know why she snapped.”

“But this isn’t taking the clone head on,” Tali protested. “This is sneaking around the edges. Looking for an opening.”

He scratched his mandible, lost in thought. “If we knew the leak, we might be able to dismantle some of the clone’s defenses.”

“Exactly!” Tali nodded. “Then are you in?”

Garrus gave her that very turian grin. “Well, you know me. Never been good at falling in line.”

Tali hugged him.

 

 

**_three._ **

Goddess, who had that _banshee_ been back at the apartment?

Liara gazed listlessly out the window, Zakera Ward whizzing past in a blur. She kept her eyes fixed away from the car’s inhabitants. Not at Joker, and certainly not at Miranda.

Miranda missed her prepaid passage on a shuttle to Bekenstein at Liara’s request. Even if her assistance ended in disaster, she owed Miranda her aid. With the clone still lurking in the shadows, Liara offered to escort Miranda to the docks. It was immature to flee, but she’d needed the respite. Shepard had been missing for mere hours and already they were fighting like twenty-year-olds.

Liara snuck a glance at Miranda. They had been associates with a common interest, and nothing more, but her heart wrenched when Miranda dropped that tracker in Kaidan’s hands.

“Dr. T’Soni.” Glyph’s chirpy voice rang over the skycar comm. “I am monitoring Citadel feeds based on the information we have gathered about Commander Shepard’s clone. It appears a number of CAT-6 mercenaries have mobilized. Based on my analysis, I have concluded Commander Shepard’s clone is preparing to board the Normandy.”

Liara sat up, pinching the corners of her eyes. “Can you patch EDI in, Glyph?”

“Right away, Doctor.”

“EDI?” Liara asked. “Did you get that?”

“Yes, Liara. Glyph has sent me all relevant data. I am also detecting attempts to remotely access the Normandy’s navigation system. So far, the hacker has been unsuccessful, but the attacks are increasing in sophistication.”

“Crap,” Joker said. “Shepard’s in the wind and my baby’s sitting there, all alone and undefended.”

The timing baffled Liara. The clone should have attacked Kaidan hours ago, before Shepard escaped the Archives. Why wait until now? “Do we have a visual on the clone, EDI?”

“Negative.” That was not unexpected, but Liara would wager more was at stake here. “If the Normandy were to leave the Citadel under the clone’s control, the results for the war effort would be catastrophic.”

“And your blue box would fly away with it,” Miranda added from the backseat.

There was a long pause. “That does not negate any part of my analysis.”

 “What are you recommending, EDI?” Liara asked.

“We move to secure the Normandy before Shepard’s clone and the CAT6 team mount their assault.”

A third option, in essence. Liara almost banged her head against the window. “Twenty minutes ago, you were in support of following Shepard’s orders, EDI.”

“That is inaccurate. No final decision was made after the discussion devolved into interpersonal conflict. I could not definitively compile a response that would satisfy all parties, so I chose to observe.”

“I’m surprised, EDI,” Miranda remarked. “You observed any number of knockdown fights during the Collector mission.”

“The circumstances of those conflicts were based on disparate personalities with incompatible loyalties. The argument in Shepard’s apartment was between parties who hold one another in mutual high esteem. _Friends_.” Was EDI admonishing them, or was Liara’s conscience projecting onto the AI’s remarks?

Still, if the clone moved to take the Normandy, then Shepard would follow her. Liara might have disastrously miscalculated about Shepard and her past, but this was an easy leap. Still, the original problem remained: the clone’s playbook had glaring inconsistencies, and the person who could see her way through refused to show them a path.

“EDI,” Liara began, “perhaps it’s best if we stay away from the Normandy. Even with Kaidan’s command codes, there's only so much the clone can do.”

There was another, even longer pause. “You misunderstand. I am not making a recommendation. I am informing you of my plans.”

Joker’s eyes widened. “EDI, let’s not do anything hasty.”

“I do not take ‘hastily considered’ actions, Jeff.” EDI’s voice was titanium-hard, tempered by her anger. “The Normandy is as much my body as my portable platform, and any threat to it is a threat to me. I do not appreciate the crew forgetting that.”

Joker turned to Liara with a what-can-you-do shrug. “She’s got a point. And I’m not too thrilled about mercs running their hands all over my baby either. Just being honest here.”

Much as she wished to, Liara couldn’t argue with EDI’s logic. Working with the infiltration unit made seeing EDI as just another friend, rather than as a synthetic intelligence, much simpler. It also allowed them all to ignore the more abstract aspects of EDI’s existence. This time when the impulse struck, Liara thumped her head on the glass. “Has everyone else weighed in on the matter?” she asked, rubbing her temple.

“Major Alenko’s body language indicates disapproval, but he has agreed to accompany me. Lieutenants Vega and Cortez, and Staff Analyst Brooks, have also agreed. Javik has expressed a number of highly offensive opinions about my decision, but has not yet definitively refused to assist. Wrex has not responded to messages.”

Joker cocked his head. “Uh, EDI? Did you forget Garrus and Tali?”

“I did not. They left the apartment approximately ten minutes ago.”

“What?” Liara shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. She should not feel betrayed.

“Riiight.” Joker groaned. “You probably should’ve led with that, EDI.”

“I apologize. They wished to pursue alternate leads, and Major Alenko was unsuccessful in convincing them to stay.”

So Garrus and Tali had disappeared to do Goddess-knew-what just as their AI threatened to go rogue. How had everything become so tangled? “Do we have any idea where they went, EDI?”

“Major Alenko believes they plan to infiltrate C-Sec.”

“That’s...awfully specific,” Miranda remarked.

“Yeah, no shit,” Joker said. “Any idea why they’d pull that kind of stunt, EDI?”

“Major Alenko requested that Tali and Garrus assist him in determining whether Shepard’s behavior before the Archives incident had been erratic. Tali and Garrus concluded that Shepard had conducted an investigation of the Ryuusei restaurant attack independent of yours.”

Liara felt a blow in her abdomen, as if she’d been punched. Biotically. “Shepard was investigating in secret? Why did no one mention anything?”

“I have previously observed that when Shepard has a dilemma, you take a proprietary attitude in finding a solution. The Major may have—I am being asked to stop talking.”

“What?” Liara scorned that very idea. “I do not need to solve all of Shepard’s problems for her.”

Joker mock-coughed into his hand, muttering _yesyoudo_ between hacks. Liara turned to glare at him, but her hostility bounced right off the pilot. Sighing, she turned back to the actual problem. “We’ll drop Miranda off and return to the apartment as soon as possible, EDI. If we’re delayed for any reason, go ahead and we’ll meet you at the docks.”

“Thank you, Liara,” EDI said, and despite EDI’s warm appreciation, Liara couldn’t melt the glacier in her stomach.

The comm line clicked off, leaving them in silence. Joker whistled an off-key tune to fill the space.

Liara was the Shadow Broker, with the most powerful information network in the galaxy. Over 25,000 informants reported to her liaisons, giving her a peek into every window in the galaxy. _Give me ten minutes and I could start a war_ , she’d bragged to Shepard.

_What was the first file you looked up?_

She scowled at the question. Of course she’d looked up Shepard. Shepard was the only one who could defeat the Reapers. Understanding Shepard was the key to helping Shepard, which was the key to winning the war.

It wasn’t as if Shepard made it easy. Sometimes Shepard reminded Liara of a Prothean dig site. So much of her hid behind her false name and classified files. Liara suspected Shepard herself might have wiped away clues, much as the Reapers once erased the Protheans.

If Liara had known more, if she had truly understood Shepard, then she might have seen what happened in the Archives coming. Liara might have prevented it. Why couldn’t everyone else see that too? Shepard was trying to save them all. She deserved better, and Liara wanted to give that to her.

_You know she’s never going to love you, right?_

The not-Shepard voice invaded her thoughts, and Liara scowled at her. “I apologize for the tension,” she said to Miranda, eager for a diversion.

“Don’t worry about it.” Miranda waved a hand at her. “Compared to the Collector mission, this was a minor fuss. Back then we couldn’t go two days without one specialist trying to kill another. Even Shepard tried to shoot me once.”

“And now we’re just one big happy family,” Joker said cheerfully. “And by ‘happy,’ I mean ‘fucked-up.’”

“Heaven help us all.” Miranda flashed Liara a genuine half-smile.

Liara couldn’t bring herself to smile back. A new question niggled at her mind. “Why did you ask me to retrieve Shepard’s body?”

Miranda released a puff of air, her lips blowing outward. “You mean, why didn’t I approach Alenko?”

She considered denying it, but the silence went on too long, and the opportunity passed.

“Despite Alenko’s self-imposed isolation,” Miranda said, “he was still with the Alliance. The early psych reports we obtained suggested he was coping remarkably well with the loss of the Normandy.”

“Uh...you guys knew he and Shepard were hooking up, right?” Joker asked. “Because I know he acted all cool, but trust me, he wasn’t cool.”

Liara shot Joker a startled look. Whatever Joker had seen in Kaidan, he’d drawn a very different conclusion than Liara. Perhaps only a human could have seen it?

“We were...intimately aware, yes.” Miranda’s lips curled in disgust.

Joker made a face. “And now I’m sorry I asked.”

“He would’ve been a remarkable coup for Cerberus, but he buried himself in the Alliance. Likely hoping they’d send him on a mission deadly enough to join his lady love in good conscience.” Liara was about to ask for more details when Miranda continued. “It worked out for the best. He was the tipping point in Shepard turning herself in to the Alliance.”

Liara blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know?” Miranda’s eyes snapped up, curious, but not disdainful. “Shepard almost didn’t return to the Alliance after the Bahak system was destroyed. We went back and forth for three days. She never mentioned him explicitly during the discussions, but after she'd decided, she told me going back to Earth was the closest she’d ever get to writing a love letter.”

Yet another detail Liara never would’ve found in her information network.

“You, on the other hand, were on an 'extended sabbatical' from the University of Serrice, and on the outs with Thessia,” Miranda said. She recited the facts, with not a trace of the superiority that marked the Miranda Liara first met three years ago. “You were isolated.”

No one on Thessia wanted to touch the pureblood daughter of Saren’s right-clawed woman. The Council’s decision to bury evidence of the Reaper threat sealed Liara’s fate with Asari High Command.

Then again, Liara hadn’t tried very hard.

Shepard’s death destroyed more than Shepard, though. Kaidan’s messages, when he answered them, were terse and canned, revealing nothing. Garrus and Wrex vanished into misery and prosperity. Tali sent a few letters, but her happy chatter about her new role in the Fleet left Liara cold.

Shepard’s death destroyed the only place Liara ever belonged.

“And your feelings about Shepard were well-known among the crew,” Miranda added. Joker winced.

Everything Liara had back then, she owed to Shepard. Perhaps everything she had now was owed to Shepard also. “So I was an easy target,” Liara concluded, her throat working like dull razors.

Miranda pierced Liara with her icy stare. “Project Lazarus would have failed without you, Liara.”

Had it ever occurred to her to reconnect with Asari High Command, even with the resources of the Shadow Broker to bolster her claims? She’d gone straight to the Thessian Archives instead, searching for a solution to the Reapers.

Searching for a solution, so she could be the one to give it to Shepard.

_You know she’s never going to love you, right?_

“Uh, Liara? On a scale of ‘night light’ to ‘rave at Afterlife,’ you’re at about a ‘drive core engine.’”

Liara glanced at her hands, and sure enough, her corona shimmered. She deactivated it, squeezing her eyes against a sudden sting. “I...I’m sorry.”

“Sure, that’s all right.” Joker said, but he scooted away from her. “We’re here, if you want to walk Miranda to the shuttle dock. Maybe vent a little? Please vent a little.”

“Oh. Of course.” Perhaps the walk would slow her racing thoughts.

All her files, her mission reports, her unearthed secrets. Two trips inside her mind, even, and Liara could never explain to her satisfaction why Shepard didn’t want to be called Maria, or why she walked away in the Archives, or why...why she...

“Liara.” Miranda patted her shoulder, the hand dropping on her like a tilting support beam. Reassuring others was never Miranda’s specialty. “Despite everything, you were right to bring Shepard back.”

Liara looked down at Miranda’s hand and wrapped her arms around herself, biting into her lip. “But did I do it for the right reasons? When I thought of the Reapers coming, Miranda, I thought of Shepard, of saving the _other_ races. I wanted...”

Liara turned away, ashamed of the direction her thoughts took. She regrouped, and rephrased in her own mind. “I wanted to be her wise advisor, to have all the answers for her. It never even occurred to me that the asari would die at the Reapers’ hands.”

There. That sounded appropriate.

Miranda clasped her hands in front of her, looking down at them. “I’m probably not the best person to ask,” she admitted. “I spent nineteen years telling myself the ends justified the means, but at some point I stopped asking what the ends were.”

She turned, staring out the docking back windows. “I’m not... I’ve lost count of my regrets. With everything I’ve been given, I should have been _better_. But when I think of Project Lazarus – when I think of _Shepard_ – terrible as it sounds, I’m glad I was where I was then. And I think that’s my shuttle.”

“Miranda.” Liara took her hand and squeezed it, shocking herself with the impulse. “I don’t know where you’re going, but may the Goddess go with you.”

“Where I’m going, I’ll need all the deities I can get.” Miranda gave Liara a tight smile. “And don’t worry about Shepard. She has schemes upon schemes running through that mongoose brain of hers. Good thing I armor-plated it.”

Liara watched as the shuttle departed the docks, waiting until the vehicle disappeared into the Citadel lights. The people around her left once the shuttle’s view grew indistinct. It was a waste of a time, but her thoughts still smacked around her head like biotiballs. She teetered at the edge of something crucial, not yet ready to let her mind explore that dark avenue.

Also, she had no idea what she would say to Kaidan and Garrus. Apologies were in order, but beyond that, Liara wasn’t sure.

When she finally turned away, though, something caught her eye.

Shepard joked that Liara’s recently-acquired paranoia grew at an exponential rate. Alas, paranoia was defined by unwarranted mistrust and suspicion. Liara found most of her mistrust and suspicion were very, very warranted.

Another flicker at the edge of her vision set her biotics tingling. Liara let her barrier extend, enough to create a light cushion in the event of attack, but not enough to be visible in the high light. She didn’t want to spook anyone.

“Joker?” Liara murmured into her comm. “I think I’m being watched.”

No response. Liara tried again, switching radio channels, but nothing. An attempt to contact Kaidan back at the apartment confirmed that communications were jammed.

Where was everyone? Most of the people at the docking bay departed once the shuttle left, but there were too few people around. Staffers, dock workers, C-Sec agents, refugees. How had she missed the way the area emptied?

Too distracted with her thoughts of Shepard, whose cryptic warnings to Kaidan took on new implications.

The ripples down Liara’s spine told her that her follower was getting closer. All Liara’s thoughts spiraled to the same place: _what did she want_?

All these years she’d followed Shepard, and she was looking down the barrel of the answer to the questions that haunted her days and nights. She wanted, more than anything, to _understand_.

So Liara threw caution to the solar wind and flared bright and strong, dark energy coalescing at her fingertips. Pulling her Acolyte, she tipped her chin up to sneer at the catwalks. “Stop skulking in the shadows!” Liara called.

She waited, expecting shots from above, or a tech assault on her amp. Perhaps a team of mercenaries flooding the docking bay.

Nothing. Perhaps Shepard’s clone was as patient as Shepard herself was. Liara never understood how a woman so fascinated by explosives and incapable of sitting still longer than three seconds schooled herself for hours while approaching a target. She stepped backwards, searching for good cover that wouldn’t leave her pinned.

The first shot plunged deep into Liara’s barrier, which barely absorbed the particle’s impact. The ricochet reverberated in her teeth, shock and heat sizzling through her dark energy curtain. Liara shook off the blow, her eyes following the trajectory of the bullet.

Spotting a distortion on a catwalk, Liara shot a bolt of pure dark energy at the catwalk supports. It trembled threateningly but didn’t fall. The rumble bought Liara time to activate a stasis field.

The clone threw herself backward, flattening against the catwalk as the stasis field took hold. She’d be impossible to attack from this position.

Without the ability to see what she was doing, Liara couldn’t layer a warp field over the clone and let the detonation tear her apart. She tried instead to shift the dark energy she was already generating, gently shifting it to create a spatial distortion instead of a kinetic field.

Another shot rang behind her, and Liara froze, her concentration broken by the new threat. The clone bounced up and cloaked, vanishing into the dark catwalks. A crate near her exploded in a rain of fiery debris, and Liara pushed out her barrier as she rolled away.

A tracking drone approached her, sizzling with electricity. Liara warped it, shorting the device, and dodged as another shot rocked her barriers.

Shepard’s preferred approach with biotics was to stay invisible. _Can’t lift what you can’t see_ , she’d quip. Liara wasn’t so sure about that. She’d need to be ready to move, though. A shipping container created a lane with a nearby crane, and Liara prepared to escape.

She’d seen Kaidan adjust the charge of his biotic barrier and then push out the field into a wide area of effect, lifting instead of absorbing heavy blows. Liara tried it now. She lacked the sweeping gut-shot impact of Kaidan’s barrier expansions, but her raw power blew through the space, unseating all it touched. The clone stumbled, her cloak wavering as she fought to stay grounded.

Liara dived for her exit. The effect had been impressive. Once she apologized to Kaidan, she’d have to ask him to explain the mechanics of that trick. She was a bit warm, but Liara launched a singularity at the clone, hoping to sweep her into the fray.

Instead, the singularity exploded as the residual dark energy from the barrier collided with it, a biotic wrecking ball crashing through the space. Liara expected to hear a cry or yell if the clone fell into her detonated blast radius, but there was nothing. Liara scrambled backward, too aware of the tight space she’d funneled herself inside

—the grenade landing at Liara’s feet forced her to summon every drop of dark energy she could generate keep from frying her in its blast. She was pinned now, forced to run down the alley—

—only for a hard, swift kick to the back of her knee to knock Liara off her feet. A knee pressed down into Liara’s spine, and a pistol barrel buried itself in the back of her head. With a fluid gesture, the clone yanked her amp. Liara cried out as the biotic energy she’d been gathering dissipated, crackling where the amp disconnected from her jack.

A needle jabbed into her neck, and Liara hissed, trying to wrench her head back. The pistol kept it in place. “Don’t be so surly, T’Soni,” the clone murmured in her ear. “You finally know what it’s like to have Shepard’s hands all over you.”

Gray crept along her vision. She tried to summon something, anything that would let her throw back the monster, but all she could do was lay there. Her limbs grew heavy, her senses dull.

She looked upward, praying for help.

There, up in the rafters, was a woman in CAT6 armor and Shepard’s face...

...no, that _was_ Shepard.

The clone still pressed into her.

“She—Shepard,” she whispered, pleading with her eyes when her mouth failed.

“Maria can’t save you now,” the clone said.

Yes she could. She simply chose not to, opting instead to shimmer out of existence.

Liara’s eyes closed as her heart sank into the cold metal below her.

 

 

**_four._ **

While the war effort required sacrifices from everyone, the Normandy had one of the few private docks on the Citadel. Kaidan was used to quiet on their dock, but there should have been Alliance teams working on the retrofit. The only good news was that scanners didn’t pick up any hostile parties.

James squinted, scanning the area. “No sign of Joker or Doc.”

Kaidan rubbed his left temple. “Maybe they made it to the Normandy and are already waiting for us?”

“That’s a very positive attitude, Major.” Brooks smiled at him.

Javik crossed his arms. “The human does not believe his words.”

How Shepard hadn’t murdered the Prothean yet was beyond Kaidan.

“I can confirm that Major Alenko’s supposition is incorrect.” EDI strained forward, leaning so far her shoulders hunched inward. Sighing, Kaidan checked his rifle one more time before motioning for Cortez and Javik to follow him. “I do not read Liara or Jeff's biometric signatures on the Normandy. They may be waiting nearby, given that all comm lines in the area are jammed.”

This was a terrible idea.

The tip of a jackhammer rested against Kaidan’s skull. During the ride over he’d given in and used his meds, and already the drug mix brawled in his system. Half the team had unloaded on him their lingering resentment on behalf of Shepard, and then ran off to sulk in their corners. Shepard’s evil clone was about to try and take the Normandy, and EDI’s face looked like something out of one of those AI horror vids.

That Shepard herself was still missing was almost a secondary concern at this point. Almost.

At least when Garrus and Tali left, Kaidan hadn’t expected to hear from them any time soon. Investigating C-Sec wasn’t a terrible idea in of itself, except for the part where it violated the one explicit order Shepard left for them, but Garrus and Tali never sat on the sidelines when there was something they could do.

Liara, though...that was different. Even if she weren’t feeling particularly charitable towards Kaidan, she would check in with the team, if only for an update about Shepard. Joker might fall off the grid, but not Liara. Besides, Joker wouldn’t want EDI to worry.

Liara would’ve known it was the clone last night. Probably would’ve known the moment she touched it. Would never have let the fear of losing Shepard keep her from following her instincts.

Kaidan shook off that depressing thought.

He couldn’t blame any of them for wanting to escape the smothering atmosphere of the apartment. Maybe that was why he’d jumped when EDI announced she was going to secure the Normandy. 

Not that they had a choice in the matter. Despite her bias, EDI hadn’t been wrong when calculating the potential devastation to the war effort of losing the Normandy. If the clone took control, convincing the Council and the Alliance their Shepard was the true Shepard would be impossible.

And despite wanting to follow her orders, Kaidan couldn’t sit by and let that monster take Shepard’s ship. He had to protect it, for her sake.

Then again, Shepard didn’t seem concerned about the clone moving on the Normandy, or she’d already be here. Wouldn’t she?

_How would you know?_

“How you feeling, Bug—uh, Javik?”

Javik sneered at James. “Well enough to defeat you, human.”

“Right.” James put his hands up, rifle waving wildly. “No worries, man. Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Javik’s mouth twisted. “Imagine you were blinded and deafened in a single stroke. You still could not comprehend.”

“Which is why Chakwas told you to stay back,” Kaidan reminded him.

“I will not permit weakness to distract me from my mission.” Javik flicked a glare at Kaidan. “And you, human, are in no place to judge. Even blind and deaf, you radiate pain.”

Kaidan rolled his neck, ignoring the thud at the base of his skull. “Right.”

“Is this really such a good idea?” Brooks stopped in her tracks, hands on her hips. “I mean, Shepard is gone, half your crew is missing, and three of us recently suffered major injuries. Well, I admit the bullet wound is healing nicely, but I’m not looking forward to—”

“ _Chica_.” James patted Brooks on the shoulder. “Everything will be fine. We’re legends, remember?” He flashed a warm, disarming grin at her.

Brooks gave James a skeptical glance. “I don’t think I realized legends are so...discombobulated.”

“We are wasting time.” EDI’s voice had a harsh metallic buzz. Kaidan almost told her to calm down, and then decided he really didn’t want another lecture about body integrity from the unit that bashed his skull into a shuttle.

Two weeks ago Shepard sat with him about four meters from their position, their legs swinging over the edge while they split a bottle of Red Janey vodka, her favorite. He admired the view while Shepard pointed at the rafters and skyscrapers, telling him which ones would make the best sniper’s perches, and he kissed her to shut her up, and she curled her fingers into his shirt instead of a trigger.

“Hey, Major,” Cortez nudged his shoulder. “Don’t you think we should’ve seen someone by now? Guards, maybe?” Or Joker and Liara, he didn’t add.

“This is Shepard we’re dealing with.” The words came out before he could filter them. “I mean, the clone thinks like Shepard. She’s expecting us. If she has mercs, she’ll send them in to flank us once we get close. Possibly a few snipers at...” Kaidan cast an eye over the area, remembering the night on the docks. “There, there, and there, if her people have access to ultra-velocity disruptor rounds. Once we’re pinned, she’ll try to use the chaos she created to slip in and incapacitate us. Shepard’s best at long range or up close.”

Kaidan glanced down at his assault rifle. He’d qualified for his expert’s badge while she’d been MIA.

Superior at mid-range.

“So we’re being herded into a giant trap?” Cortez asked. Kaidan nodded. “Any reason you didn’t mention this sooner, Major?”

“Other than that I just thought of it?” Kaidan shrugged. “We don’t have a choice.”

James groaned. “ _Chingado_. 1”

Brooks had her head in her hands, but for the first time since this mess began, EDI’s face softened. “You are incorrect. Options always exist.”

“Sure,” Kaidan said. “You can always walk away. But...sometimes the cost is too high.”

EDI’s eyes perused him while her form remained motionless, a sign she was using a significant amount of processing power. The unnatural stillness made his skin prickle.

“Thank you, Major.” EDI resumed normal function, integrating small gestures back into her routines. “I believe I have gained new perspective.”

“Uh...you’re welcome?”

She’d already dismissed him. “We need to keep moving.”

They walked for a while in silence, nervous glances communicating the same message over and over, when the first strike came. EDI stopped, twisting backwards to face the team.

“The clone has entered the ship and is attempting to—” EDI whirred and spasmed, ugly mechanical sounds screeching as her optic sensor flickered. Her body slumped over, hands dangling limply.

“Oh, shit.” James’s eyes widened.

James leaned in to examine EDI. He’d just gotten close when the body repowered, the arms swinging outward, one solid metal hand slamming into James’s nose as EDI cried, “I’m okay!”

“Fuck!” James’s head reeled, the snap of the impact rocking him back on his heels as he clutched his nose. Blood trickled from his nostrils.

“Whoops,” EDI said.

“James! Are you all right?” Brooks rushed to James’s side, her hand on his shoulder. James made a weak noise, but slowly nodded. He didn’t miss an opportunity to waggle his eyebrows at her.

“I apologize, Lieutenant,” EDI said, sheepish. “The clone has disabled my control of the Normandy as well as all sensory input. I cannot lock her out or counteract her commands. Downloading infiltration and personality runtimes to this unit was given highest priority.”

“M’okay.” James waved the team on, holding his nostrils shut. “Wha’ ‘bout you?”

“I am experiencing a significant feedback loop in my head, and an increased desire to kill Shepard’s clone.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kaidan muttered. They kept moving.

Reaching the airlock without engagement inflamed the tension. EDI scanned the door, attempting to access the controls.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Brooks said, “but I’m getting some noise on the comm line. Well, there was noise before, but it was just static, and this might almost be words—”

Gunfire echoed too close for Kaidan’s comfort. Cortez peered out around the airlock for a second, and then ducked his head behind the wall. “Looks and sounds like you were right, Major.”

“That’s very comforting,” Kaidan said dryly. He looked over at EDI. “Can we open the door?”

“Negative,” EDI replied.

“Cortez, what are we looking at?”

“At least two squads.” He peeked again. “Maybe a dozen guys, some heavies.”

“We’re running out of time here, Major. What do we do?”

Kaidan’s thoughts flew, trying to work out the best way through. “We need control of the Normandy,” he decided. “James, Steve, Javik, and Brooks, hold off the mercenaries while—”

“Wait!” Brooks toyed with her hair. “I’d be a lot more help to you, Major. I’m not really good in a fight.”

“Fine. Brooks, you come with EDI and me. EDI, any other suggestions?”

EDI scanned the airlock before kneeling down, running her fingers along the floor. “Saved sensory data indicates an alternate route is nearby. Scans of stored data indicate it is...here.” She pried open a panel.

Kaidan knelt beside EDI, analyzing the hatch EDI revealed. “An emergency hatch,” he confirmed. “Manual lock from the other side.”

EDI cocked her head. “Yes. I...remember. Triggering it would require extremely precise mass-effect field manipulation.” That was what he’d been thinking, but he doubted he had the fine control necessary. Military biotic training was about going big.

Brooks tapped on Kaidan’s shoulder, holding out a small silver stylus. “This might work.”

He flipped the switch, and a tiny mass effect field bloomed from the tip. Kaidan had seen tools like it before, but never in the field. “You just had this?”

“Micro-field generators are part of standard Alliance infiltration kits,” Brooks explained. “I thought it might come in handy.”

Kaidan stared at the micro-field generator for a moment, shaking off the odd pang in his skull. “Thanks, Brooks,” he said, giving her a grateful smile. A few seconds with the tool, and the hatch's lock disengaged.

“Holy shit,” Kaidan remarked. “Our security is atrocious.”

“The hatch is intended for easy escape,” EDI pointed out.

“Fair enough.” He climbed through the hatch, EDI and Brooks close behind.

Terrible idea, Kaidan reminded himself. Hackett assigned him a brief tour with a covert-ops team a year after the Normandy crash, one of the first biotics in the Alliance to serve in that capacity. The move made sense later when they offered him command of 1st Special Biotics, but he spent the first month getting snapped at every time he activated his barrier. Stepping lightly through tight, cramped quarters was more Shepard’s thing.

“Major,” Brooks whispered. “Do you hear something?”

“Quiet.” Sound-dampening boots only achieved so much. Even breaths, slow, precise movements. He watched the ground, wary of every step.

They were close, now. Just a few more steps. He lifted the grate up—

—to find the clone’s pistol trained on him.

“Hello, lover,” she said, her lips cruel.

Kaidan fired up his barrier, but a pistol barrel butted into the back of his neck. “Don’t bother.”

Brooks. Different accent, with a new, chilly note introduced. Her fingers slid over his jack, ripping out the amp. Kaidan flinched at the sudden dissolution of dark energy.

The sweet, bumbling rookie. _Of course_ she’d been a mole all along. Kaidan would slap his forehead if he weren’t confident that would get his head blown off.

“Before either of you try anything stupid,” the clone began, “I should tell you I have Flight Lieutenant Moreau. He’s alive, but that can change.”

She wore Shepard’s facial expressions too well. Kaidan recognized that face from times Shepard knew she’d already won. He kept still, even as EDI vibrated next to him. “We have no proof of your assertions.”

“Would you bet Moreau’s life on that, robot?”

EDI pulled back, her head hung low. Her metal features were tight and sad in a way Kaidan had never seen on anyone else.

“How sweet,” Brooks said, her voice sugar and cyanide. “The electric can opener learned to love.”

“Weapons down, hands up. Walk out slowly.”

Kaidan reconsidered resisting, but he was stuck in the same position as EDI: the stakes were too damn high. He dropped his Revenant and unclipped the Carnifex at his belt, setting it down. Then, with Brooks nudging him along, he stepped out of the tunnel. “On your knees.”

“I see why Maria keeps him around,” Brooks remarked. “He takes orders well.”

The clone leered, fondling his cheek. “That’s not the only thing he takes well.” Kaidan fought down a repulsed shudder.

Brooks's fingers slipped beneath EDI's hair, and EDI's furious metal eyes traced the woman's movements. When Brooks found her target, EDI collapsed, eyes rolling upward as metal body clanged against metal floor.

“Why, Brooks?” Kaidan asked. “How could you betray the Alliance to help that...thing?”

Brooks laughed, buffing her nails along her armor. “It’s not betrayal if I never worked for them.” Brooks pulled his hands behind his back and cuffed his wrists.

“So you’re Cerberus.” His tongue was thick.

“Not any longer.” He felt her smirk. “Listen at you and your adorable questions about _betrayal_. Maria skipped straight to the creative, if impotent, threats.” She chuckled to herself, then pushed him forward with her pistol, marching him up the steps to the CIC’s central console.

Shepard...Shepard knew? She’d known Brooks was a traitor?

“I thought that was odd, too,” Brooks remarked, as if reading his mind, “But who am I to argue with providence?”

Occam’s razor, Kaidan told himself. Any other explanation was too devastating to consider. He took a deep breath. “So Shepard’s messing with you.”

That gave Brooks pause, but the clone smiled. “I’m looking forward to it. She’s made things easy so far. You ever heard of Operation Killswitch?”

Kaidan racked his brain, but the words were unfamiliar. Not that he’d admit it if he had. He narrowed his eyes at her instead, hoping he conveyed the depth of feeling behind the ‘fuck you’ he wanted to say.

The clone stroked her chin. “Wait, what am I saying? Of course you haven’t. Profiles on every past and present member of her crew, with half a dozen ways to kill each one of them. Sent only to Hackett via QEC, with regular updates. Tracking it down was a pain in my ass, but worth it.” The clone smirked. “You had a bonus six suggestions. Don’t you feel special?”

More of Shepard’s secrets. Kaidan didn’t know why he was surprised, but he refused to let it show. “So what you’re saying...” He smirked as his voice trailed off. “...is that you needed a cheat sheet to fight me?”

It was totally worth the crack of Brooks’s hand slapping him upside the head. Kaidan blinked the stars out of his eyes, still focused on the clone.

She kept her face smooth, impassive, though Kaidan spotted the way her index finger curled inward, as if pulling an imaginary trigger. One of Shepard’s few tells. For a genetic clone without memories, her unconscious movements lined up uncomfortably close to the real Shepard’s.

“Between our work in the Archives and your omni-tool, we got the _real_ Shepard onto the ship,” Brooks said in his ear, “but you’re Acting CO of the Normandy. You can manually override the medical leave.”

She didn’t elaborate. There was no need. “Go ahead and kill me, then,” Kaidan said.

The clone’s fingers drummed over a central console. She picked up the box next to her hand and opened it, lifting up a large, vicious-looking device with several metal clamps. He’d seen those wires before. They haunted his sleep.

“Do you know what that is, Major?” Brooks asked.

“No.” He nearly choked on the word.

“Neither do we,” Brooks confessed, as if whispering a conspiracy into his ear. “But the people Cerberus used it on were far more _cooperative_ afterwards.”

Kaidan said nothing even as his mind went into FTL, calculating the implications. Sweat dripped from his forehead.

“Think it’s based off Reaper tech?” the clone asked, turning the device over as she examined it.

“Oh, almost certainly,” Brooks said. “That’s why we keep it in a neural shield container.”

“So, Major Alenko.” The clone lifted up the device, adjusting so the light caught off the edges. “Way I see it, you either authorize the transfer, or we find out what this thing does and you _still_ authorize the transfer.”

He stared at EDI’s prone, powerless form.

So much for always having a choice.

The clone had tried twice already to access the Normandy’s systems. A third time would prompt a call from Alliance security, the one thing everyone in this mess wanted to avoid. He recited the command codes when prompted, heart sinking as a tinny Alliance VI announced, “Authorization accepted.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Brooks asked. Kaidan bit his tongue to keep from snarling at her. She cocked her pistol. “And now that we’re done—”

“Wait.” There was a shuffle, and then Kaidan was yanked backwards, stumbling as he flew over the steps. He landed on his knees, his hands on the command platform, before a syringe plunged into his neck. Kaidan’s system reacted to the drug, his limbs growing slow and heavy. He sagged forward and slumped onto the steps. The clone patted his head.

“What, you didn’t want blood on the steps?” Brooks asked.

“Not exactly.” Kaidan heard the elevator’s doors whizz open.

The clone stood up, speaking to someone beyond his now-limited vantage. “Lock the robot in the AI core.” She kicked Kaidan’s boot with hers. “And take him to the Kodiak. Transport him once you’ve finished the job here.”

“What job?” Brooks boomed out from behind him. “You’re not going to kill him?”

“Not just yet.”

Footsteps pounded behind his head, shaking the floor. “Darling, we have the Normandy, and Shepard is on the run. Why draw out this charade?” A long pause. “Do you want to keep him as a souvenir? Is that it? We’ll pop a control chip in his brain and he’ll do whatever we ask.” The way Brooks’s tongue played with the word ‘whatever’ made Kaidan’s stomach lurch.

“No!” The clone sounded as disgusted as Kaidan felt. “Plans have changed.”

Someone was approaching him. He guessed it was a CAT-6 mercenary, though with the fog starting to plague his brain, he couldn’t be sure. “You should have consulted me.”

“So?”

“So don’t be stupid, darling.”

Arms lifted him, and Kaidan was draped over a merc’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. They carried him to the elevator, past the arguing Shepard and Brooks.

“I’m Commander Shepard!” the clone screamed. “I’m the one who can stop the Reapers. I’m the one who can win the war without kowtowing to aliens. Isn’t that what you keep saying?”

“Of course you are, darling. Aren’t I the one who saw your potential? But you need to listen to me.”

“And _you_ need to trust my judgment.”

“Darling, please...” There was a smack of flesh against flesh.

“I should go,” the clone said as the elevator doors closed. “I have a collection to complete.”

 

 

**_five._ **

It was good to be shooting something, in James’s opinion. There’d been too much drama for him. Emptying his Mattock into a bunch of _pendejos_ was a good way to work off tension.

Right now the mercs were coming at them slow, playing it cool with drones and grenades. James could do this dance all night, but they just needed the Major and EDI to get control of the Normandy and then this would be over.

Yeah, this whole thing knocked him for a loop. Lola was _loca_ , yeah, but she was _loca como una cabra_. 2 Crazy smart in ways James couldn’t even imagine. He didn’t like the fact she ran off without them, but he wasn’t wounded by it, like the Major and Doc, like Scars and Sparks.

There was a clank on his three, and James turned, trying to pin down the noise as even he kept firing. His clip got too hot, though, and he ducked below the barrier to reload—

—smoke wrapped around him, stinging in his eyes. James swiped at the air, but the cloud billowed thick and soupy around him, obscuring everything beyond arm’s reach. A faint shadow passed across his vision, and then needle-sharp objects pricking his neck. He cried out, swatting at the searing spot, and his hand hit a small metal object.

James waited a moment, half-expecting to pass out, but nothing happened. Cursing, he tugged at the metal thing. It pulled out easily, looking like a metal daddy-long-legs sitting in his hand. There was almost no blood on the spikes.

Esteban made a noise, the same strangled shock and pain James had felt. Even Buggy made a sound. James groped for his omni-tool, toggling the infrared HUD on his helmet and taking in the enhanced view.

“ _Chingado_ ,” he muttered. Whatever else had just happened, the mercs had called for backup.

Lots and lots of backup.

 

 

**_six._ **

It was strange for Garrus to look in the mirror and see himself with Magna colony markings instead of his own tribe’s blue. The bright red pigment covered many of Garrus’s scars, made the exposed skin appear more ragged. It wasn’t the first time he’d worn different markings for an undercover operation, but this felt different. Maybe it was the scars.

“You look good in red,” Tali said.

Or maybe it was his partner.

After retrieving his old C-Sec armor from a storage unit, they’d gone on a shopping trip. She’d put away her usual belts and lavender scarves for a lacy scarlet headdress and wrap. Even her suit glinted in a deep red shade. The effect was garish, which, Tali assured him, was the point.

“So do you,” Garrus told her. She looked different, but the tilt of her head, the saucy way she cocked her hip, those touches were all Tali. Did that head tilt have some special meaning to quarians? He was going to be back on the Alien Expressions site later, wasn’t he?

She put her hands behind her back, waiting on him. “You know, Officer Vakarian,” Tali dipped her head, “usually when I let someone handcuff me, they buy me dinner first.”

“Have you been watching human romance vids again?” Garrus activated the mag-cuffs.

She shrugged. “You have to admit, this is a bit absurd.”

Garrus chuckled. “It was your plan.”

“Hush.” She tried to kick him, but her foot went wide. He laughed harder.

C-Sec headquarters never changed much. More humans milled about, and more security checkpoints, but the feel of the place, the one that had Garrus tensed and gnawing at himself, that hadn’t changed. Even on the best days he’d felt as shackled as his collars.

Tali tensed, too, but she shrank into herself. “You okay?” he asked.

“Of course. Just...old memories.”

Right. Quarians and law enforcement agencies didn’t have the best relationships. “Get ready,” he warned her.

“I’m sure Shepard would say something silly here, like ‘I was born ready.’”

“Close. She’d add ‘motherfucker’ to the end.” Tali giggled.

Despite all that had changed, Garrus slipped back into the old mindset with ease. He squeezed her arms, still careful not to puncture her suit, and forced Tali to move instead of walking at her pace. Tali changed, too, stiffening even more, lifting her head with a defiant jut.

“Sorry about this,” he whispered in advance. Louder, he said, “Don’t drag your feet, vagrant.”

Tali froze like an electric shock, then wrenched away from Garrus, forcing him to yank her back into place. “Unhand me, you...dirty bird!”

Garrus kept his face even. More than a few of his human arrests had yelled stuff like that at him. It never bothered him before, but hearing it from Tali? That stung. Garrus filed that away to examine later.

They made it through the first security checks with no fuss, the VI fooled by Tali’s altered identification. Being in C-Sec proper was different. “Keep your head down,” he reminded her as he led her down a back corridor. The main promenade increased his chances of running into an old colleague or three.

She turned and craned her neck, feigning looking over Garrus’s shoulder. “No one’s going to recognize me,” she whispered.

“I still can’t believe you think that.” Garrus shook his head. “You stand out everywhere.”

Tali spared a half-second for an arrested stare before turning forward again and pretending to struggle. He didn’t understand her surprise; it was true, wasn’t it?

He’d gone undercover before, but there’d never been a charge like the one between him and Tali, a warmth accompanying their partnership. The only other person Garrus would’ve felt this confident with was Shepard, and there hadn’t been the same underlying charge.

Well, there had been, once. It died when it hadn’t been reciprocated. This was different. This was a free flow between them, trust building upon itself. Also, he could spend hours watching Tali’s hips sway.

Okay, he was getting a little distracted.

An asari officer Garrus remembered from Vice stopped him, trying to figure out where she remembered him from. He waved her off by proclaiming his false identity while spouting off details about her. “Just taking this thief to Interrogation Room B before I book her,” Garrus told the officer. “You know how it is, Panea.”

“Er, sure.” Panea couldn’t escape fast enough.

“Where’s Interrogation Room B?”

“Close by. There’s access to a Keeper tunnel there. It’s a pretty safe path to take, slightly larger than an air vent—”

“Keelah, are you serious?” Tali jerked around to glare at him. “Why didn’t you tell me your plan involved vents?”

Because she’d react this exact way. “First, it’s a Keeper tunnel, not a vent. Second, because it’s the simplest way to get you to the central server room and if I’d told you about it we would’ve spent an extra hour arguing,” Garrus explained, scowling at her.

“But my suit—”

“What kind of budget do you think C-Sec has? We’re public sector. You can hack past any of their sensors with your omni-tool closed.”

“That doesn’t make me feel good about C-Sec,” Tali said.

“You’re a quarian. You already dislike C-Sec on principle.”

“Good point.”

Interrogation Room B was a grim gray box of a room with a paneled ceiling. Garrus tried to push the chair close to the wall vent opening, but someone welded it to the floor. “I’ll have to lift you up.”

“Gah,” Tali muttered as she climbed onto his shoulders. With a few twists of her omni-tool’s flash-fabricated drill, the vent’s screws loosened, allowing her to access the space.

Garrus activated his omni-tool. “Okay, I’m sending you an interactive map of C-Sec that should work with your suit’s HUD. That should guide you through the vents and keep you out of the security camera’s view until you can hack them. Don’t try to use cloaking software; you’ll set the alarms screaming. Now, are you sure you’ll be all right without your shotgun?” He couldn’t imagine going into any situation unarmed.

Tali started to laugh. “Garrus, I have an omni-tool. I’m a hundred and fifty centimeters of glowing orange death.”

“That’s...” His mandibles flared at the visual. “Either really terrifying or kind of sexy.”

“When you make up your mind, let me know.” Then Tali tapped her fingers to her speaker and waved her hand at him. It reminded him of one of those human gestures he’d seen Shepard use with Kaidan...

...like she’d blown him a kiss.

Garrus’s heart stuttered.

Well. That was...huh.

 

 

**_seven._ **

Garrus’s map and her suit’s interface made navigating the dark vents easy. They did little for the musty smell clogging her olfactory filters or the misery of crawling through cramped metal vents. She made good progress, using elementary bypasses to fool the sensors planted throughout the vents. This whole infiltration had been laughably easy.

Too easy, now that Tali thought about it.

“How’re you doing?” Garrus cut through her thoughts.

“I’m getting close to the central server bank.”

“Good. Let me know when you reach the server room, and then I’ll be on my way over there.”

Tali crawled around a corner. A few dust motes slipped past her filters, and she sneezed. She hesitated a moment, wondering if she should say something.

Keelah, with their luck, she’d...what was that term Joker used? Jinx. She’d jinx them. Maybe infiltration really was this easy. She’d have to ask Shepard when they found her again.

Then again, thinking about Shepard drained the fun out of their little mission. And it was fun, despite the circumstances, despite some lingering sadness. She didn’t feel as heavy. Maybe all she’d needed was to acknowledge the hurt.

A few more turns, and she found the closest access point for the central server room. Unlike Interrogation Room B, all these vents were on the ceiling. She crawled farther on and found a vent directly above a server, shortening her drop.

After dismantling the vent, she jumped down, wobbling as she landed feet-first onto the server. She stared out at the vast server array, realizing this was less room and more warehouse. Cheap bulbs and hard floors she felt through her boots, and blacks spanning hundreds of meters. Garrus mentioned C-Sec security processed 800 yottabytes of footage an hour, but the aisles of servers hammered into her how enormous the operation was.

No one was around. Most C-Sec officers accessed the servers from their personal terminals, and the room was hot, even with cooling banks attached to each server and enormous fans constantly sucking heat from the room.

“Garrus? I’m in the server room.”

“On my way.”

Garrus told Tali there was a central access system Tali could use to sort and examine the footage. According to her map, it was...there. Her omni-tool flared to life, bringing up the timestamps they’d collected from the shuttle access logs.

Hacking into the system would be tricky. How close was Garrus? Using his C-Sec credentials would be a lot faster.

“Garrus?” Tali started a scan on the system. “How close are you?”

“On my way,” Garrus repeated.

“But how close?”

“On my way.” There was no change in Garrus’s inflection whatsoever. It was as if dozen spiders skittered over her suit.

“Garrus?”

“On my way.”

Definitely a recording. Her eyes tore across the room, searching for anything out of place. If Garrus had been subdued, or worse...she seized up, blind panic hitting her like a relay jump.

“Keelah,” she said to herself. “Get it together.”

Garrus was tough as a dreadnought. Hadn’t he lasted days against three separate packs of mercenaries? Anything that tried to kill him would end up sorry.

Then again, C-Sec was full of narrow walkways, and that interrogation room was tight.

And while Garrus might have been Archangel, not even Archangel could beat Commander Shepard.

Tali abandoned all pretenses now. She activated her combat and defense drones as a precaution as she began working on the terminal. If Garrus had fallen to Shepard’s clone, it was even more important she found out whatever she could about the clone’s resources.

_Ancestors,_ _please keep Garrus safe._

She had a decent idea how to fool the system into allowing her access after restoring Garrus’s credentials, and her hack worked faster than she expected. Now it was a matter of finding the footage. With the timestamps input, all she had to do was wait for results.

The footage came up a few seconds later. Tali hit playback.

While the figure kept her face turned away from the camera, she looked familiar. Tali zoomed in, trying to get at least a partial facial. The figure in the footage turned just enough right to get a partial profile.

It was enough to recognize Staff Analyst Maya Brooks.

“Keelah...” Hadn’t Kaidan said Brooks was clean? Not that it would matter if Shepard and the clone hacked deeply enough into the Alliance records to get Shepard’s black-ops mission reports. Adding or changing a new profile would be simple.

That backstabbing bosh’tet was helping the clone all along.

She had to warn the crew.

“Kaidan?” Tali asked into the comm. “Liara? James?”

No answer.

That was when Chatika started tracking a target. Tali swallowed.

She was here.

Somehow the clone got Garrus, and now she was coming for Tali.

Tali was no Shepard. She wasn’t even Archangel.

But she did have Chatika vas Paus. And Chatika vas Paus had a rocket launcher.

She had to think fast. Think like Shepard, she reminded herself. Especially given her opponent. _Can’t fight what you can’t see_ , Shepard liked to say.

Chiktikka lost its target, resorting to its standard patrol protocol. Tali pulled up some of the code from one of the specialized tracking drones the CAT-6 engineers used. She hadn’t had time to analyze what they’d found, but with the magic of cut and paste, she cobbled together a rough program. A quick upload and the combat drone shot down the aisle with renewed purpose. “Go for the optics, Chatika,” Tali whispered in encouragement.

Oddly, the gunfire reassured her. Her suit’s battle software pinpointed the clone’s last location from the gunfire’s trajectory. That gave her a starting point. She darted to another location, trying to make her way to the entrance.

Keep moving, Tali reminded herself. Moving targets were harder to hit. “Stay close, Mab’Ri vas Dogge,” she told the humming defense drone.

She activated Chatika’s repair protocols and examined Garrus’s map again. Getting out of the server room and into public space, even C-Sec space, would be safer than being alone in a room full of cover for the clone to stalk her.

Bodies would be better. The clone wouldn’t want to sully Shepard’s reputation by being caught trying to kill someone in C-Sec. Plus, smoke particles refracted the effect of tactical cloaks.

More gunfire, meaning the drone found its target again. Tali tossed the smoke grenade over the server she’d pressed against, aiming towards the sound. The smoke limned an N7 silhouette, standing on a server three aisles away.

Tali moved around the corner of the server she hid behind and sent out a long, low energy pulse, a draining effect with the same wide radius she’d seen Shepard use back in the Archives. The clone, caught in the shockwave, wavered as she gripped the edge.

Despite the wisps smoke rising to the ceiling, the smoke alarms hadn’t activated. Had the clone deactivated them? Then again, the room was large, and the fans cycled a lot of air through the room.

Taking another risk, Tali fired off an incendiary plasma bolt at the clone, but she’d recovered her balance and leapt out of the way. Then she vanished again. The plasma ball slammed into the wall, leaving a smoky, melting crater.

Her kinetic barrier hissed as it absorbed bullets. Tali rolled out of the way, scampering to get behind another server. Mab’Ri sizzled as the drone lashed out with an electrical shock pulse.

Disruptive ammo took her shields to 14% capacity. Tali tried another wide-range energy pulse, but this time the clone rushed out of range.

Chiktikka had taken a lot of damage, and hovered in the corner of the room, trying to complete its repairs. Tali couldn’t lose the clone again. She scanned the ceiling and spotted her target. Then she threw her last smoke grenade at the alarm.

Klaxons blared high, while the overhead sprinklers showered over the entire room. The gamble paid off, though: the tactical cloak couldn’t conceal the water droplets splattering off the clone. Now she and Chatika could use targeted strikes.

Her drone, finished with its latest round of repairs, thundered back to utility. With laser precision, it launched a missile at the clone. The clone barely escaped its trajectory, clipping the shoulder guards. She staggered, stumbling off the server edge.

Tali smirked. “Boom, baby.”

That meant also the clone was out of her direct view. She could hack the security cameras overhead, but that would take too much time. She needed to make a run for the entrance.

She ran a jagged path, swerving in and out of rows to keep the clone from funneling Tali into a row of the clone’s choosing. The door wasn’t far now. She could do this. She could make it out.

Chatika rounded the corner, bouncing along. Tali welcomed the sight before remembering she’d been set to the track the clone—

—the bolts came from both sides as Chatika and Mab’Ri unloaded massive electrical attacks onto Tali. Her suit grounded most of the energy, but not enough, and she hunched against a server, gasping for air as her body jolted.

As Tali lifted her head, willing her trembling limbs to cooperate, a hard metal object tapped into her visor. The clone stood above her, coolly triumphant even with her singed hard-suit and soaked hair.

“Grab her.”

Two men dressed in C-Sec uniforms picked her up from the ground, each clutching one of her arms. The clone pried off Tali’s omni-tool, tossed it on the ground, and stomped on it. She winced as the boot ground into the polymers.

“Not bad, Bubbles,” the clone remarked. “But you’re no Commander Shepard.”

Tali was literally sick with anger, the bile rising from her gut and spreading over her tongue. “The real Shepard will come for you, bosh’tet.”

The clone’s eyes slid sideways, a cold chuckle burbling from her lips. “I know.” She reached out, exploring the edges of Tali’s visor until she found her target. With a flare of her omni-tool and a twist of her fingers, Tali’s visor popped open. Air rushed onto her face.

She leaned in close, until Tali felt the clone’s breath on her face. Tali held her breath, avoiding as many particles as she could. Then her eyes narrowed and she closed the visor.

What was _that_ about?

“Get her out of here quietly,” the clone instructed her false agents, leaving Tali to wonder as they dragged her away.

 

 

**_eight._ **

James lobbed his last grenade over the stairwell, forcing two of the mercenaries out of cover. A swift raze with Javik’s particle beam sliced through the first guy, but the second managed to slide away.

Twenty-two down, and...

“Esteban!” James yelled. “How many more of these guys on our asses?”

Esteban didn’t answer at first, since he was busy splashing cryo rounds all over two mercs who’d crept up too close. Javik managed to summon up enough biotic power to shatter the snap-frozen mercenaries into pieces, scattering them like broken glass.

“After that?” He groaned. “Maybe two dozen more?”

_Shit_. James threw himself down the stairs when a couple of cluster grenades made it over the railing. He wiped his face, cringing as his nose burned. Snorting medi-gel only took away the worst of the sting, and he’d had to use the rest on his hurting neck.

Buggy was doing pretty well, even if his biotics still sucked, and Esteban made his pistol dance, but it had been way too damn long since the Major and EDI went through the hatch. Between that, the smoke bomb, and his neck, James was pretty confident they’d met trouble. And Brooks. Was Brooks okay? The clone had been pretty rough with her last time.

“Look!” Buggy pointed behind them. “Up at the sky!”

Someone was flying the Kodiak away from the Normandy. James couldn’t deny it any longer. Shit had gone bad.

“What the hell?” Esteban’s mouth dropped open. “ _Are those assholes flying away with my Kodiak?_ ”

“Concentrate on the enemy in front of you, pilot!” Buggy sliced an arc of beam-energy across the dock, forcing everyone on the docks to take cover.

“Gladly!” Esteban fired into a mercenary, frying their shields.

They couldn’t keep this up forever. There was nowhere to retreat, and no one was coming for them. Whatever happened to the Major and EDI probably happened to Doc and Joker, too. Scars and Sparks were next, if they hadn’t already fallen.

James wanted to think Scars and Sparks might get lucky, but the clone had enough Shepard in her to have him worried.

He scrounged for the thermal clip farthest from him. It was cool to the touch, so he loaded it into his Mattock and aimed between the mail slot of a heavy’s omni-shield, the shots rattling inconsistently against the shield as some sailed through.

“How much longer can we keep this up, Vega?” Esteban yelled.

“Don’t worry, Esteban,” James yelled back, “I’ll protect you!”

“We must accept that the human and the synthetic have failed.” Buggy managed to rip the omni-shield from the heavy’s grip before sinking back behind cover, breathing hard.

James couldn’t argue with that, much as he would’ve liked to. They were pinned, with no way to call for backup, and out of grenades. Buggy’s biotics bounced back some but were still only a fraction of his usual output. And even with that kickass beam rifle they were running low on clips. And who knew how many more of these guys the clone would send their way?

Holding here was one thing when they thought the Major would retake the Normandy, but now?

He grabbed the live grenade the mercs had tossed and threw it in their direction, but it exploded in mid-air. Cortez switched back to his Avenger, covering their flank again. “These guys just don’t fight fair, do they?”

_Rule number one of battle, Vega: if you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck._

“War is not fair!”

_Then what do you call fighting a Reaper, Lola?_

_A damn good time._

James was no quitter, but something had to break.

And then, something did.

A hole broke through the center of a merc, sky peeking through before he collapsed.

_What the shit?_

A second fell moments later.

“Shit!” a merc yelled. “We’ve got a sniper on our six!”

_Lola._

James knew. He fucking knew. Whatever fucked-up game Lola was playing, she hadn’t abandoned them. She wasn’t going to let them die.

“Is that...Shepard?” Cortez glanced at the rafters above the docks.

The mercs scattered, adapting to the new player on the field, but they were shaken. It wasn’t an unfair fight any longer. It wasn’t even a fair one.

Think like Lola, he told himself, _como un cabrón_. She’d given him a moment to breathe, and James wasn’t gonna waste it.

He scanned the perimeter with renewed energy, looking for some advantage. He found it towards the edge of the docks, half-hidden by other crates. “Hey, procurement guy! That crate on your ten look like it’s got grenade boxes on top?”

“Could be, Mr. Vega. Could be.”

“Hey Bug—uh, Javik. Could you do your thing on the crate?”

Buggy’s four eyes narrowed. “I will need fire support.”

Esteban and James unloaded while Buggy aimed at the crate, shearing the heavy containers apart. Just before they scattered, James fired several incendiary rounds, the explosive flare billowing up and out, blasting everything in a ten-meter radius, including over half their remaining opponents.

“Retreat!” a merc cried over the screaming, and the survivors complied, fleeing from the docks. Two more fell to Lola’s rifle before the last of the CAT6 squads cleared out.

“Whoo!” James pumped his fist in the air. “And that’s how Commander Fucking Shepard’s people do it!” Esteban gave him a high-five, the crack of their palms echoing through the emptying area.

When he held out his palm for Buggy, the Prothean just glared at him. He slouched slumped against the railing, breathing heavily. “A wise use of resources, human,” he wheezed through gasps for air. James started to smirk, but then he added, “I would not have expected it of one so self-absorbed.”

“Bah.” He waved off the backhanded insult, and then looked up at the rafters where the shots originated. It was one of the spots the Major had described. A faint gleam caught his eye, and James saluted it.

“You all right, Javik?” Esteban asked.

“I will recover.” He waved off Esteban’s hand.

“That’s nice.” Esteban slid down next to him. “Because _I_ might not. _Shit_ , James.”

_Shit_ didn’t begin to cover it. As they walked back along the charred and bullet-strewn dock, James groped for his bearings.

“What now?”

James wiped the sweat off his brow. “Uh, well, I guess EDI and Kaidan failed.” But Lola still had their six.

Esteban glared up at the sky. “And they took my Kodiak.”

“Liara and Joker never showed, so the same thing might’ve happened to them.”

“They have likely perished at the clone’s hand.” Buggy bowed his head. He looked kinda bummed.

“Whoa, hold on.” James put his hands up. “Shepard’s watching, guys. She saved our asses. You really think she’d let that clone kill Kaidan? Or Joker and Liara?”

Esteban stroked his chin. “You’ve got a point. But why not step in sooner? Why doesn’t she go after the clone?”

“Wish I knew.” Maybe it was just one of those things that made you a little crazy, that thing if you pressed on would always be tender. Every soldier had one. Lola helped him out with his, but James had to wonder if Lola ever got help with hers. Like Hackett told him, Lola had a long trail of bodies behind her.

They were all just standing around, thinking. Buggy and Esteban kept looking at him, and James kept looking back up to where he saw Lola.

“So.” Esteban crossed his arms. “Now what?”

_No good choices_ , the Major had said.

Lola was the one with all the vision. She always saw a way through. Maybe she’d come by it hard, but she had it, and James trusted in it.

Make some chaos, slip through the noise. “Hey Esteban,” James asked, “don’t you have some kind of tracker on the Kodiak?”

“James, if I have to leave the Kodiak, things have already gone to shi...actually now that you mention it, there’s one in my omni-tool.”

“Well, the Kodiak’s probably going where the clone is,” James said, pacing as the idea took shape. “So Lola will go there eventually. She’ll know where the clone took the team. And once she goes in, we show up at the front door with a fuckton of gunfire. We’ll make some fuckin’ noise!” He slammed his fist against his palm. “And Lola will slip in the back while we’re having fun in front.”

Esteban and Buggy gave each other looks. “How are we going to know when Shepard shows up?”

James shrugged. “It’s _Shepard_. Shit will start to happen. Way I see it, we go back to the apartment and grab some guns first, ‘cause they’re badasses and they’ll rescue themselves. Then Lola will take her clone down and we’ll all get drunk off our asses to celebrate.”

Buggy had his chin in his hand. “An interesting plan.”

“So you’re in?”

Buggy nodded.

“Count me in too, Mr. Vega,” Esteban grinned.

“Oh good.” James scrubbed his neck. “‘Cause I’m gonna need a drinking buddy when this is all over.”

 

 

**_nine._ **

Brooks was a practical woman.

She’d built a life on cutting her losses, knowing when to walk away. She’d lost count of the aliases she’d assumed (though you never forgot your first), the different lives she’d slipped into, and the endless reinventions.

As a research assistant for the Lazarus Project, Brooks found a kindred spirit in their subject. She followed as the girl in the ditch rearranged the broken pieces of herself into a masterpiece, and then abandoned that carefully cultivated self once she stepped on the Normandy. Brooks wanted to claw her eyes out, demand answers, but _Maria_ was kept far out of her reach by Miranda Lawson, the Illusive Man’s pet operative.

Brooks hadn’t been jealous. Pets lived on leashes, as Lawson learned the hard way. And Maria, despite her alien magnetism, was slippery. Brooks wanted someone solid underneath her fingers. Someone she could shape.

They’d been so close to flushing _her_ away. Brooks saved _her_ , taught _her_ how to be human. Instructed _her_ in the fine art of sliding into another skin. Sculpted _her_ into the beautiful, purposeful monster that Maria should have been, had Maria not forsaken herself.

And this... _this_ was how she was to be repaid?

Brooks would fight fire with fire and scorch the bloody ground.

As the dust settled and Maria’s lackeys limped away, Brooks stepped out onto the docks. She was still nearby. Brooks could feel it.

How she felt it was a mystery. This was not the Shepard she’d lovingly sculpted. Somehow both they left trails of energy; light, cold winds where they’d once existed, as if the space grieved for them. Maria and her clone were proving to be similar in the most frightening ways.

She walked past the corpses and groaning future corpses, eyes high up in the rafters. Maria would wait until they were safely away to leave, but Brooks could make her appear, like calling ‘Bloody Mary’ in a mirror.

“I know you’re close,” Brooks called up, like a daring child. “You and I have business.”

_Click_.

The safety was off now, and the Suppressor’s barrel dug into the back of her head.

Was this what Alenko had felt?

“I’m listening.” She still wore a helmet. Interesting, given Lawson’s reports.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, Commander.” Brooks kept her voice light, floaty, disengaged. “Not telling your friends I was their mole. Alenko and the robot walked right into our trap.”

_Click. Click._ Maria toyed with the Suppressor’s safety. “On your knees, hands behind your head.”

Brooks complied, but a frisson of fear coiled in her stomach. Where the clone was petulant, Maria was predatory. Her detached, almost conversational tone enhanced the chill.

“I won’t patronize you.” Brooks laced her fingers together. “You’re too clever not to have an angle. She’s clever that way, too. A couple neural implants and she was queen of the board.”

“The queen’s still just a piece on someone else’s board, Brooks. Tell me what you want.”

Brooks wished she could turn around, bat her eyelashes a bit. “She’s gone insane.”

“She was already insane.” It was the first time Maria spoke with any emotion, though Brooks couldn’t pinpoint which.

“Then she’s gone rogue.”

“You mean you’ve lost control of her.” Brooks recognized that emotion: bitterness. A cold gale blew across her face.

“She was supposed to win the war for humanity,” Brooks said, quashing a snarl, “not play chicken with you and your freak show followers.”

“I’m pointing a gun at your head and you _insult my crew_? No wonder my clone dumped you.”

“I was not dumped!” That came out more strident than she intended.

Maria chuckled, a cold, mirthless noise. “And now you’ve come to me, thinking you can manipulate me like you did her.”

“That’s not true.” It wasn’t. There were other, better ways to manipulate Maria.

Unfortunately, Maria already knew that. “Then you want to point me like a loaded rifle at _her_ and skate away during the firefight. Like I’m still seventeen years old.” A mirthless chuckle. “The Illusive Man made that mistake, too. Do you have something _useful_ to say, or do I pull the trigger now?”

“I do,” Brooks said, her nails digging into her palms. “But I’m talking quid pro quo.”

Maria snorted. “I’m gonna need a taste first.”

_Breathe_ , Brooks reminded herself. This wasn’t a time to playact at fear. “I sent her back with your team to take Major Alenko’s command codes—”

“She took a hell of a lot more than that.” Maria stepped around Brooks, gun barrel never leaving her head. Her hair tangled and pulled as the barrel came to rest on her forehead.

Despite her desperate circumstances, Brooks couldn’t stop her giggle. “Are you really upset about your boyfriend’s maidenly virtue?”

“Did you read about what I did to Solan Arus?” Maria asked. “He’s got a real nice smile now. You don’t have mandibles for me to break, but I can get pretty creative with a pair of omni-pliers and a skycar battery.”

It was the way she said it, the bloodless, easy cant of her words, that chilled Brooks. This wasn’t the hypocritical, alien-loving _Maria_ she and her wicked ex-protégé mocked together. This was the monster they’d both aspired to be.

Brooks’s heart fluttered against her ribs, real panic coloring her eyesight. She forced herself to lean forward, pressing herself into the pistol barrel.

“She’s become obsessed with you, your crew.” Brooks hissed the word ‘obsessed’. “I know where you can find her.”

“So will I, once the Kodiak lands.”

_Son of a bitch_. The pieces flew together in Brooks’s mind. “You let them be used as bait. So you could track her.” Maria didn’t answer, but the stiffening of her shoulders was all Brooks needed. “Look at you, all grown up and playing mind games of your own. The Illusive Man would be so proud.”

That did get a reaction: an ever-so-slight tremble of the pistol barrel, undetectable had it not been shoved up against Brooks’s skull. “Or perhaps I’m not giving you enough credit. Tell me, do you still keep your mother’s rosary bead in your hard-suit? That was such a charming little story you told the soldiers at Torfan. Three of the survivors defected to Cerberus after the Alliance’s post-mortem smear campaign. Loyal beyond the grave. I admire your knack,” she added, her voice gaining strength. “It’s one thing to convince fools to die for you; it’s another to convince them to slaughter men and woman who’d already surrendered. There were children there too, weren’t there?”

“Either you’ve got a six-pack in your pants,” Maria remarked, “or you have a death wish.”

Brooks wasn’t about to show fear, but fear spread through her anyway, like a hard restart of her heart, like toxic sludge pumping through her veins. She never pretended to herself she was a good person, but even she had limits. It was time to lay down her cards. “She’s planning something.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

“No, I mean—” Brooks took a noisy breath. “She did something to the Normandy. Boarded with a tech team. At one point she was studying the SR-2’s blueprints.” Brooks hadn’t known until today she had a hard limit.

The pistol barrel softened a fraction against her forehead. “What else do you know?”

She looked up, boring her gaze into where she assumed Maria’s eyes were. “Before I give you anything else, I want your assurance that I can get up and walk away.”

There was an endless pause as Maria stopped to consider the offer. “Done.” It was firm, and Brooks trusted it.

“She helped CAT6 take an abandoned real estate project called the Magdalena Towers from a local gang. It’s at the edge of the Tayseri Ward’s active power grid. Very desirable property. And there are Keeper tunnels running below it.”

Maria's chin rose. “Is there an access point?”

“Not in the North Tower where she’s holed up, but there’s an entrance in the basement of the South Tower.”

“Does she know about it?”

“No.” Maria lowered her head, and Brooks felt that glare even through the visor. Brooks hastily revised. “I’m not sure why, but it wasn’t in the original blueprints. She’s never said anything, and there are no defenses installed like for the other access points. The CAT6 leads definitely don’t know.”

That seemed to satisfy her. “And how do I get across?”

“There’s a sky bridge at level five. Guards and tech mines, nothing you can’t manage. She’ll have lookouts in the South Tower, so you’ll have to be careful, but you can avoid the horde at the bottom levels. She’ll be—”

“—on the top floor. That’s still a lot of levels to cover.”

Brooks rolled her eyes. “Really, do I have to do everything? I thought you were _Commander Shepard_.”

When she chuckled, she was almost human. “Fair enough. Now I have some questions of my own.” Brooks should have seen that coming, but it caught her off-guard all the same.

“How does the clone have my memories?”

Brooks mouth dropped a bit, her eyes widening as she hunted for an acceptable answer to a question that didn’t have one. For once, the truth won out. “I wasn’t aware she did.”

“Really? You’re going to play that game with me? You can’t clone a memory, and no one alive knows about Tom.”

The brother spoken of in the Archives, Brooks presumed. She racked her brain again, and the answer came to her. “That may not be accurate.”

“About my brother? Because I promise you it is.”

“About cloning a memory,” Brooks said, gulping. “Lawson’s work was unprecedented. She couldn’t just regrow cells. Your brain and your endocrine system had to be exactly as they were, with all the damage they’d already sustained from the life you’ve led left untouched. Long-term damage to the hippocampus. Elevated testosterone. Pleasure centers half-fried from adrenaline. Did you know you have inert eezo nodules attached to your nervous system? You might’ve been quite the biotic but for want of a secondary exposure.”

“You’re stalling, Brooks.”

Brooks huffed. “I don't stall. I'm illustrating a point.” She was absolutely stalling, but that wasn’t something she wanted to advertise. “The data from your resurrection could’ve advanced medical science by at least fifty years, and the kiss ups brought their ideas to the Illusive Man. The current holy grail of neuroscience is to organically recreate a memory, and they had an empty vessel with the same DNA as the person who they’d just finished reconstructing.”

She let that statement sit, waited for Maria to the correct conclusion. “They tested their theories out on her brain.”

“Precisely. They called her Project Gemini.”

When _she_ ’d first awakened, she’d been a newborn babe, with all the beautiful potential that such a creature possessed. Later, when Brooks quizzed her using Maria’s memories, she always got blank-gaze responses, and Brooks had been satisfied that Gemini had failed. Looking back, though, perhaps she’d been too clever, mastered skills too quickly.

Perhaps she, just as her originator, buried her secrets deep.

Maria exhaled, long and loud, the noise grating through the suit speakers. “You _idiots_.”

Now that was just ungrateful of her. “Why do you say that? Do you think you’re the only one who deserves to benefit from Project Lazarus?”

“Because Cerberus used _my_ fucked-up head to test it! Didn’t you people _read_ all those mission reports you snuck out of Alliance HQ? And with the way the beacon messed with me—”

She considered leaving it there, but honesty was the only thing that would keep Brooks alive, and stop _her_ , at this point. “The beacon’s effects weren’t an issue.”

“Excuse me?” Maria’s voice was tundra.

Cringing was so unlike Brooks, yet that was what she did. “Wilson and Lawson struggled with regenerating those parts of your brain. Whatever methods they used weren’t in the Project Gemini records. They used one of your earlier baseline scans instead.”

“What date?”

Brooks hedged a bit. “I don’t see how that—”

“What. Date?”

With a sigh, she relented. “November 2182.”

Maria gasped, her head jerking backward even as she bent Brooks’s neck back with her pistol. “And you _woke her up_?”

Brooks sighed. “Don’t be that way, Commander. You coped remarkably well with being the Alliance’s dirty little secret. Why wouldn’t she?”

“Of course you thought that. Everyone thought that.” The laugh came from Maria was harsh, rusty. A broken sound, but eerily familiar.

“One last question,” she said when she recovered. “Where’s the real Maya Brooks?”

Brooks swallowed. “The Potomac.”

“Thought so.”

Her heart slammed into her trachea, her forehead ached from the pistol barrel digging, and her hair was too heavy for her head. Maria was opaque and statuesque in her dark hard-suit, her thoughts unknowable. And while Brooks’s ears absorbed the sound of her breath, of vehicles whizzing past, of dock machinery, they traveled through oceans before arriving at her ears.

Brooks inhaled. “Is that it?” Brooks tried to force herself to a standing position, but the barrel pinned her down, the metal gouging her forehead.

She glared up at Maria. “You said I could walk away.”

“I lied.” The cold wind rushed back, the chill freezing her from within. “You started this, Brooks. Now I’m going to finish it.”

This was, Brooks supposed, the closest she’d ever get to a clean conscience. Funny how never mattered until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 _chingado_ \- fuck  
>  2 Literally translates to “crazy like a goat,” but means “crazy like a fox.”


	6. Priority: Magdalena Towers

**_one._ **

“Shit. Shit shit shit.”

Getting back to the surface took a long time. Kaidan picked bits up in drips and drabs. Cold metal pinpricks biting into his neck. The stench of garbage in his nostrils.

“Shit shit shit shit _shit_.”

The sound of Joker stating the obvious.

“Wait, are you waking up? Kaidan? Kaidaaaan? Come on, now’s not the time to go all massive head trauma on me.”

“Please stop talking,” Kaidan muttered. That jackhammer tip had begun a slow bore into his skull. His right temple was tight and crusty.

He groped around for his omni-tool’s activator, and flinched as orange light flooded his eyelids. A few punches and his hard-suit administered another shot of the good stuff. He could hear Chakwas clucking at him, but Kaidan couldn’t bring himself to care.

Sitting up was an adventure in of itself, especially with Joker ‘helping.’ Once his torso was vertical, Kaidan blinked, shaking off the last of whatever the clone injected into his system. “I’m okay,” he said, waving off Joker.

“You’ve got a pretty fucked-up definition of okay, Kaidan,” Joker said. “No offense.”

“None taken.” He looked around at concrete walls and dumpsters. An alley of some sort, and, judging by the graffiti, not in a good area.

What the hell happened?

“So it turns out we’re in Tayseri Ward. You know the ward where a third of the power’s still out from Sovereign? I actually found a working Avina terminal. Well, sort of working. She says a lot of shit I don’t think the original programmers had in mind. Kinda hot, though—”

“Joker.” Kaidan rubbed a sore bump on his neck. “What did I say before about talking?”

Joker rolled his eyes. “Just trying to help, man.”

Kaidan looked at Joker, really looked at him. The clone went to an awful lot of trouble to capture him, Joker, and EDI, only to dump them in an alley. “What happened to Liara?”

“I didn’t see it,” Joker admitted, “but probably the same thing that happened to me: ambush from hell. Also I may or may not have a broken rib. What about you?”

He sighed, rubbing at his bloody temple. “Sounds about right, with a bonus betrayal from Brooks.”

Joker was quiet. “You know, we probably should’ve seen that one coming.”

“Probably.” Kaidan put his hand on the closest wall, bracing himself as he stood. He propped himself against it as he waited to regain his balance.

“What about EDI? Is she okay?”

“Still on the ship, I think. They deactivated her.” They’d done something else to the Normandy, but Kaidan couldn’t piece the details together.

“Oh.” Joker’s face fell. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“So...” Joker adjusted his hat brim. “EDI’s been disabled, and the clone kicked both our asses and dumped us in a random alley. Now what?”

Kaidan eyes moved to the far wall, and he almost laughed at the mural painted there. The lines were rough, and the colors neon-bright, but the nativity scene was iconic, a certain coarse artistry shining through the medium. Joseph and Mary in acid green and hot pink, a caution-tape yellow Star of Bethlehem shining above. Someone invested countless hours into painting something few would ever see.

His eyes lingered on the woman in the picture. Kaidan didn’t know if there was something bigger out there, like Ash’s God, but he knew when the universe was sending him a message. He fumbled through one of his side pockets, searching. When his hands closed on the device, he stroked the edge with his thumb before bringing it into the open.

“Is that...”

It wasn’t a decision, but a reflex, to turn on the tracker. Shepard would lead him to the clone, one way or another, and right now, killing Shepard’s clone was all Kaidan wanted to think about. Maybe with a side of killing Brooks.

“Are you serious?” Joker stared at him in disbelief. “After all that shit back at the apartment, you want to go after Shepard now?”

“Things have changed,” Kaidan said simply. He wasn’t sure how, yet, but they had.

He had no amp. No weapon. No backup but Joker, assuming Joker followed him. Just his armor, his spare omni-tool, and a whole lot of rage to vent. He was compromised to all hell and every sane brain cell he had was screaming at him to stop, think, plan.

But listening to his head turned him into an empty suit of armor. Somehow listening to his heart screwed him up worse, ended in dead turians and guns drawn and the wrong woman underneath him.

Standing fully for the first time, he transferred the tracker’s signal to his omni-tool. Then, taking a deep breath, he sent the signal to every other member of the crew. Assuming they were still out there.

Kaidan’s gut was telling him to go after her. Find Shepard, find out what twisted game she and her clone were playing, find out what was worth the nightmare of the last day. What secrets she’d been so desperate to protect she’d rather let her crew hang.

He was going to listen to his gut.

“You don’t think we should talk about going half-cocked after Shepard’s evil clone? Who, I might remind you, has already kicked your ass twice?”

With a cheat sheet, Kaidan reminded himself. Why hadn’t she told him—?

Kaidan shut that thought down. He focused. Breathed through the pain.

“No,” he said. “I don’t think we should talk about this. I think I should find Shepard and deal with this once and for all.”

“You sure that isn’t the concussion talking? Because that thing on the side of your head looks kinda bad.”

Did she hate him that—?

_Breathe_.

Kaidan Alenko was a fucking _professional_ at breathing through the pain.

“Look, Kaidan, maybe I’m overstepping here, but if something, ah, happened with you and the clone, I mean, we all thought it was Shepard—”

“Joker.” He managed to summon up a decent flare even without an amp.

“Right, stopping now. I’m just saying that Shepard’s not gonna give a shit. I mean, she might have a turian-grade stick up her ass since Thessia, but she’s not _petty_ —”

“ _Joker!_ ”

The flare might've been a bit much, but Joker snapped his mouth shut.

 

 

**_two._ **

“Where’s the Kodiak at, Javik?”

Buggy called up the tracking signal Esteban had sent him. James craned his neck as the holomap rendered, a blinking blue dot staying put. “We are four and a half kilometers from the Kodiak. It appears to be floating above the ground.”

“Uh...” James scratched the back of his head, bumping his elbow into a stray Avenger. Weapons clattered into his lap, and James shoved them back in place before they all crashed down on him.

This was really not his day.

Then again, he hadn’t been kidnapped by Lola’s crazy clone, so maybe he should reevaluate.

“Might be newer construction,” Esteban supplied. “Getting decent maps for Tayseri’s a huge pain anywhere the lights aren’t on.”

“Never been in this part of the wards,” James admitted. He peered out the window. Below was a patchwork of bright lights and seething dark spots, huddled refugee crowds and shiny new construction. Reminded him a bit of the crappy parts of LA.

Esteban glanced back at him. “Tayseri got hit hardest by Sovereign’s attack. Lot of interest from real estate developers willing to foot the bill for repairs and relocation of victims. Tons of new space up for sale. Reaper war killed most of the construction.”

“Huh.” James hadn’t known about that. “You follow stuff like that?”

“Some of us use the newsfeeds for more than biotiball scores, Mr. Vega.” He looked kinda distant, the way he still got when he thought about Robert, and the pieces clicked into place in James’s head. He recovered pretty quick. “Lot of refugees down here, runoff from the dock settlements. Some pretty serious gang activity too. C-Sec’s had a rough time keeping order.”

“So no guns blazing.” Shit.

Buggy studied the dot on his holo-screen. “There will be many huddled in your abandoned buildings.”

“Good place to lay low if you’ve got the firepower to keep your turf clear.” He didn’t know too much about the Citadel wards, but he knew enough about growing up in shitty parts of town to guess.

“Yeah,” Esteban agreed. “Decent generator in one of the buildings at the edge of the power grid, siphon off the main plumbing for water, and you’d be all set. Clean water would earn them a lot of love with the refugees. Word is they’re beginning to ration.” Esteban hesitated, then asked, “You sure we shouldn’t call in Alliance to set up a perimeter?”

No way. If the brass found out about the clone, it could screw up the whole war. Plus Lola would skin him alive and hang his freshly N7-tattooed hide in her cabin. “Nah, we can take them.”

Esteban shot him a wary look. “Not all of us are impervious to bullets, Mr. Vega.”

“Don’t worry, Esteban.” James waggled his eyebrows. “You can always hide behind me.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up—”

“This is not the time for courting rituals.” Buggy cut them both off.

Wait. What?

“Uh, Javik? James and I definitely aren’t courting,” Esteban said.

“I am receiving another message.” James and Esteban’s omni-tools pinged as well. Another dot appeared on Buggy’s holomap, this one red and creeping. “And your pheromones say otherwise.”

“Hold up. Me and Esteban are buddies, that’s all.” Esteban was a great guy, but James Vega was all about the ladies. Except that one time in Basic after a four-hour beer pong match, but that didn’t _really_ count. “And what’s that dot?”

“It appears the human Alenko activated the Commander’s tracker.”

So the Major was still kicking around. James tried to open a comm channel, but the static almost deafened him. Still, it was good news, and they hadn’t gotten much of that today.

“She is underground,” Javik announced. “The Keeper tunnels, perhaps. And your pitiful attempts to deflect are wasted on me, primitives.”

“James is right, Javik.” Esteban said. “Besides, James isn’t really my type.”

“Yeah,” James agreed.

Wait. What?

“ _I’m not your type?_ ”

“I’m thinking if we stop here,” Cortez said, ignoring James, “we can get down and get the lay of the land. We’ll up the odds of a surprise assault.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” James agreed. “But seriously, what do you mean I’m not your type?”

 

 

**_three._ **

Liara awakened with a stinging neck, an aching back, and a pinging omni-tool. The feeling of being pressed into the floor hadn’t dissipated, but would in time. The heart-clench of Shepard watching her fall to the clone...that would linger.

Why hold back? Why not help?

Why not save—

—that thought was unworthy of her.

She’d been beaten, and beaten thoroughly; only the clone knew why she hadn’t pressed her advantage.

Liara reached to her neck, rubbing at a sore spot. Beneath her skin was a faint bump, barely discernible even by her fingertips. She was still on the docks where she’d been first attacked, though the clone had dragged her behind a wall of shipping crates. Walking out of the lane, she found her amp, kicked to one side. The skycar was still parked, though Joker and the car’s remote access were gone.

It made sense, and yet it didn’t. Kidnapping Joker while Liara was on the docks with Miranda would have been simple. Instead, she’d chosen to engage. Was the clone showing off, or did she have some other, yet-undiscovered motive? Her fingers toyed with the bump again. Was the bump part of the mystery or an after effect of the drug used to subdue her?

So many questions, yet all of Liara’s thoughts circled back to one.

“What are you doing, Shepard?” she asked the rafters. It was a pointless exercise. Even if Shepard were there, she wouldn’t answer.

“Commander Shepard’s motivations are unknown at this time.” Glyph’s chirpy voice startled her, the little drone popping out from behind a crate. “Dr. T’Soni. It is a pleasure to see you awake. I apologize for not having an answer to your query.”

Liara didn’t know either. That was the problem, from the beginning: she never _knew_. No matter how many Mindoinian colonists’ testimonies, Alliance mission reports, and Shadow Broker dossiers she read, she never knew Shepard. Goddess, she’d been inside her mind _twice_ and she still didn’t have any answers.

Just like Miranda, preoccupied with another person’s vision, ignoring the means to the ends so thoroughly she never stopped to question the ends themselves.

When had she become Shepard’s lap-varren?

In all her work, all her preparations, had she thought of anyone other than Shepard and Shepard’s war? Had she pinned her planet, her people, her _everything_ , on Shepard, in the hopes that Shepard would one day turn to Liara and say, “It’s been you the whole time”?

_You know she’s never going to love you, right?_

By the Goddess, had she let her people rot for a _school-maiden’s crush_?

Energy roiled from her gut and through her limbs. The highest lifts, the farthest throws, the deepest singularities always began there. Liara slammed everything she could summon into a crate, a furious blue whirlwind slashing unto itself.

“How could you?” Liara yelled up, startling the few people who’d repopulated the docks. “How could you just—”

“Do you have an inquiry, Dr. T’Soni?” Glyph asked. The question knocked her flat.

Why hadn’t she _asked_ Shepard about her past?

Why hadn’t any of them asked?

They hadn’t. Not about Shepard’s past. Only about the present, and never pressing too hard. Had they asked out of concern for Shepard, or because they knew she’d reassure them everything was fine, even when they knew better? Had they assumed Shepard always knew best?

What if Shepard _didn’t_ know best?

She wished Benezia were here. Her mother had been so wise, so knowing, always ready with just the right answer. Liara tried so hard to be like her, but somehow she always fell short. She was never enough, for Thessia, for Shepard.

Perhaps she could call Aethyta. Her father was no wise diplomat, but she had common sense, and Liara desperately needed some of that right now. Then again, perhaps she didn’t need to talk to Aethyta to know what she’d say. Something like, ‘ _Give it up, kid. If she wants to get dicked by some human, that’s her right. No one has to love anyone else.’_

Liara plunked down on one of the un-decimated crates, registering the ping of her omni-tool for the first time. Opening the message, she found the tracking signal.

Kaidan had changed his mind. She tried to contact him but he’d blocked the channels.

Back in the apartment he’d claimed to have Shepard’s best interests in mind when he refused to activate the tracker. If he’d faced off with the clone as Liara had, his motives had changed. She reached out again, hoping someone would respond. “Hello? Is anyone on the line?”

“Liara T’Soni.” Javik’s nonchalant grumble comforted her more than she’d expected. “You are alive.”

“Yes. Joker is missing, though. Are you alone?”

“I am with the shuttle pilot and the human James. We are in...Tayseri Ward.”

Liara’s brow furrowed. “Where are Kaidan and EDI? Or Brooks?”

“Unknown. We believed at first the enemy captured them.”

So Kaidan and EDI had been attacked the same way she had. Tali and Garrus might’ve suffered the same fate. Yet they hadn’t been killed, or captured. Just attacked, perhaps tagged somehow.

Well, that wasn’t ominous.

“Hey Doc? James here. You ever heard of the Magdalena Towers?”

The name tugged at her memory. “They’re an abandoned construction project in Tayseri Ward. Rumor has it they’re a CAT6 outpost.”

James whistled. “Then that’s definitely where Shepard’s going.”

Liara’s heart sped up. “You’ve been tracking her?”

“Kinda. We had another lead before. Shepard helped us out when we took down the Normandy.”

“She...helped you?” Liara’s heart wrenched.

“Yeah.” He laughed, nervous. “We got pinned pretty bad. She took a couple shots, gave us enough time to regroup.”

Another piece to Liara’s never-finished puzzle. “What are you trying to accomplish?”

“We’re gonna help Shepard out. Still working out the details.”

“Do you have any sort of plan?” Liara asked.

“Uh...help Shepard?”

Liara liked James. He made everything simple. “Send me your landing coordinates. I’ll dig up every bit of information I can on the buildings, and be there soon.”

“ _Vaya con Dios_ , Doc.” The comm link broke.

Acceptance. James, for whatever reason, accepted Shepard’s bizarre behavior without analyzing it to death. Was this how Shepard felt about her while tracking the Shadow Broker? Getting Liara what she needed to find her balance again?

“Did you hear all of that, Glyph?” she asked the drone.

“Of course, Dr. T’Soni. I am currently collating data from all sources.”

“Could you find a hack so I can activate the skycar, Glyph?”

“Certainly, Doctor.”

Pain still reverberated from Shepard’s actions; Liara wouldn’t deny that. She might never know _why_. Yet she could help stop whatever madness this clone created. She could help Shepard find her balance.

Afterwards, she’d find a way to let Shepard go. For real, this time.

A voice inside her that sounded suspiciously like Aethyta approved. Another, gentler voice chimed in alongside it.

 

 

**_four._ **

The area deteriorated as they walked. Refugees eyed them both with an uneasy mix of curiosity and derision, but it was a testament to the look on Kaidan’s face that no one bothered him or Joker as they walked along.

“So we’re really doing this,” Joker said, because Joker was incapable of shutting his mouth. “We’re storming...do we even know what we’re storming?”

“Don’t care,” Kaidan said in a clipped tone.

“Well, sure _you_ don’t. You can kill people with your brain. Also, armor.”

He stopped, taking a moment to rub at the throbbing spot on his neck. Then the throbbing spot on his temple. Then the throbbing spot on the back of his head. _Breathe_ , he reminded himself.

“Joker! Kaidan!”

Startled, he looked up. Liara waved to him from a skycar. Joker broke into a wide grin. “Long time no see, T’Soni. Nice wheels.”

Liara gave Joker a confused glance. “Isn’t this your rental, Joker?”

Joker cackled. “You haven’t changed as much as you think you have, Liara.” Liara lowered the car, shifting to the passenger’s side as Joker hopped into the driver’s seat.

Kaidan swallowed his immediate, acrid reaction. “What are you doing here, Liara?” he asked. The thought of another argument made him tired.

Liara looked surprised, then guilty, before her face settled into grim lines. “ James, Cortez, and Javik are setting up a position at Shepard’s location. I happened to spot you from the skyway.”

“That’s nice, Liara,” Kaidan said, trying not to sound too bitter. “I’ll see you there, I guess. I’ll probably show up five minutes late for the party, but—”

“Kaidan! Get your head _out_ of your ass and _in_ to the damn car!” Joker leaned on the horn for emphasis, the sound boring holes through Kaidan’s skull.

Liara had a hand out for him. She looked as drawn as he felt, and Kaidan remembered he wasn’t the only one who’d had a bad day. Sometimes Kaidan forgot how _young_ Liara was, how very different her life had been before Shepard crashed into it. She should’ve been digging up artifacts on distant planets, not manipulating information networks to win wars.

“I have a spare amp with me,” she said, biting her lip in a painfully familiar way, the way she did back on the SR-1. “It’s not optimized for humans, but it’s a universal port.”

For all that went unspoken, Kaidan saw the olive branch. He took the proffered hand and stepped into the car. “Thank you,” he told her, and he meant it. “What do we know so far?”

Liara almost smiled.

 

 

**_five._ **

They landed fifty meters off the Magdalena Towers, and then walked the rest of the way to avoid the tower’s AA defenses. The area was garbage and graffiti-strewn, people staring up from shipping crates and half-finished buildings. More than a few walls had been torn open, wires and plumbing ripped out by scavengers. It reminded him of the ugliest parts of Earth cities.

Cortez met them at their agreed rendezvous point, tossing an Avenger to Kaidan. “Good to see you in one piece, Major,” he commented. “Figured you’d flown out on the Kodiak.” Cortez leveled a glare towards the towers as he led them to their makeshift forward operating base. The towers’ black frames soared above the teeming wreckage at ground level.

“We did,” Joker said. “And let me tell you, those assholes need some sensitivity training when it comes to dumping the disabled in abandoned alleys. I’m pretty sure they broke a rib or three.”

“A pity there are no toy ships for me to throw,” Javik muttered. Joker backed away from him.

“Liara get you filled in?” James asked, his voice nasal from his swelling nose.

Joker scowled. “Yeah, we got the whole everything’s-gone-to-shit spiel in the car.”

“Shit, I still can’t believe Brooks was a traitor.” James scrubbed at his black eyes.

“Believe it,” Kaidan said, his chest tight.

“She and the Commander shared a gift for secrets.” Javik approached the group, all four of his eyes turned onto Liara. “You appear unharmed, Liara T’Soni.”

“I’m a bit sore, and my pride is battered,” Liara admitted.

His eyes narrowed at her. “Pride is insignificant. You are alive, and that is all that matters.”

Liara looked away, her cheeks flushed violet. “What about you, Javik?”

“I am well enough to waste these primitive fools.”

“Well, if you’re casting aspersions, then you must be feeling better.” Liara called up the towers’ blueprints; a red dot representing Shepard floated some distance away.

“The tracker shows her in a Keeper tunnel,” Kaidan explained, following the red dot with his pointer finger. “North tower has two working elevators, one for service, and one that goes straight to the top floor. That’s where the clone will be.”

No one questioned him, despite his statement being conjecture. Kaidan’s gut told him that if the clone had told the truth about Shepard wanting to jump from every ledge, then she’d station herself near one, let it pull at Shepard.

Maybe the clone looked too, creeping close, imagining the descent. Maybe she’d pulled Shepard’s truth from her own twisted mind.

“So we’re going up top?” Cortez asked.

“No.” Kaidan took a deep breath, preparing to explain the decision he’d made. “We’re giving Shepard cover while she goes up there. Alone.”

Explosion in five, four, three, two...

...one.

Kaidan glanced around. There were confused looks and raised eyebrows, but no outbursts. Not even a token protest. He went on with his explanation anyway. “Assaulting the CAT6 headquarters will give her time to get to the top. We might not understand what’s going on, but Shepard...we all owe her more than we can repay. She needs this, and she believes she needs to do it alone. So I say we get Shepard what she needs.”

He couldn’t quite look them in the eyes as he spoke. The silence went on so long Kaidan half-convinced himself the crew walked away. When he finally looked up, all he saw were Shepard’s people, waiting on his orders. It shocked him before his brain recovered and demanded to know when he’d stopped trusting himself to lead, but that was a question for later.

He pointed to Liara, who added a wide reddish perimeter around the map. “I’ve managed to clear out most of the civilians by using my resources to publish rumors of C-Sec raids on red sand labs in this area. Many of the refugees in this area docked illegally or have criminal backgrounds. They’ll look for places to wait out the raids.”

James whistled, and then winced. “Nice work, Doc.”

Kaidan motioned to the elevators on display. “The service elevator’s our best bet, especially if Shepard approaches from the south tower along the fifth-floor walkway.”

“Sounds about right,” Cortez agreed. “But elevators like that usually have tight security access. Passkeys if we’re lucky, biometric scanners if we’re not.” At Kaidan’s inquisitorial look, he added, “I’m a mechanic, not a hacker.”

Performing that kind of hack under fire was a skill in of itself. Liara hadn’t mastered it, so with Garrus and Tali still missing and EDI locked inside the AI core, the only two options were to leave it to Shepard or unlock it himself. Shepard would be forced to uncloak or take a much longer route. Kaidan eyed the electronic hub in the basement. “You’ll need to clear me a path.”

James, Cortez, and Javik exchanged glances. “Think we can manage it between the three of us,” James said. Javik sniffed.

“Be careful. This is their central outpost on the Citadel.” Liara flipped through a few records. “They’ve been very active in the criminal scene here since establishing this base. Who knows what depths they’d stoop to on their home turf?”

Kaidan frowned. “Are they that new to the Citadel?”

“My sources suggested they originally operated out of Omega, much like other ethically dubious paramilitary groups.”

“Do you think—?”

“Yes,” Liara said, not waiting for him to finish the question. Kaidan had wondered how the clone bankrolled CAT6’s loyalty, but helping the company establish itself on the Citadel would’ve created a bond deeper than credits. Deeper, and much more dangerous.

How very Shepard-like of her.

“So we should expect this to blow up in our faces? Good thing I’m staying in the car,” Joker quipped. “Wait. I am waiting in the car, right? I’m not really a storming-the-castle kind of guy. I’m definitely a waiting-in-the-car kind of guy.”

Joker was babbling; Kaidan only needed one guess as to why. He felt the exact same way.

“Might be nice to have someone ready if we have to make a quick getaway,” Cortez said. “There’s no way this won’t go south.”

That was painfully true. Their chances of concealing this operation from the Council or the Alliance were dicey at best. The best Kaidan hoped for was concealing the clone’s existence from the public. Without Shepard to bluster and browbeat both organizations into terrified submission, they’d need to provide cover for Shepard’s cover.

And that was his task: get them all to the other side intact, even Shepard. Especially Shepard.

“Okay,” Kaidan said. “Here’s what we’re going to—”

There was a roar, a crash, and a lot of shouting mercenaries.

Kaidan assumed that nothing would go according to plan. But he hoped he’d at least get through _explaining_ the plan before everything went down the tubes.

“Holy shit!” Joker said, peeking around the corner, but he was grinning. Kaidan half-stepped out to look.

Wrex, in all his Krogan Battlemaster glory, had rushed the guards at the front gate. He fired his Claymore into one and tossed another. A third heavy, who had slipped away, came back around to engage.

In response, Wrex thundered towards the heavy, disappearing in a whirr of biotic energy. He reappeared and slammed his bodyweight into the poor mercenary, pinning him to the ground. The merc beneath him flailed uselessly as Wrex chuckled.

“You know, I thought I’d seen all the worst ways to die in this galaxy,” Joker commented, “but I think ‘biotic krogan glomp’ wins.”

Kaidan shut his gaping mouth and focused. The reaction to Wrex’s assault was immediate: yelling inside the building, snipers staking out windows, trampling in the distance as refugees fled the area. Mercenaries were already pouring out the front doors. “Liara, bottle up the crowds,” he barked.

“Right!” A singularity appeared near the doorway, keeping the mercenaries inside until Wrex finished the half-dozen circling him.

“Let’s see how you tadpoles do without a Shepard clone to save their asses!” Wrex roared with a nasty grin on his face.

It wasn’t what Kaidan wanted, but they were committed, and Wrex’s change of heart was a very good thing. He signaled for James and Cortez to move towards the basement entrance and then scanned the battlefield. “We got snipers at levels 6 and 12,” he announced.

“Not a problem!” Green energy dragged sniper from their posts. They landed with sickening crunches.

As soon as he moved in, two mercenaries pounced. Kaidan moved fast, executing a reave that caught both the mercenaries in the grip of dark energy. He spun back and kicked the rifle from the first merc’s hands as he roared with pain. Another swift strike knocked the second merc into the wall. He took the collected energy from the reave’s feedback loop and pushed it outward, the crashing energies frying nervous systems and shooting a bright flare into the sky.

He spotted Liara trapping enemies in stasis bubbles as Wrex worked the moving targets. Kaidan laid a warp field down, igniting the stasis fields, darting back as the energy crash ricocheted through the area.

“This is almost as fun as a Tuchankan funeral!” Wrex said as he threw a mercenary into a wall. “Alenko, thanks for the invite!”

“Surprised to see you here!” Kaidan said as he fired into a drone. “Thought you were still pissed at Shepard.”

“Well, I’m old! I forget easy!” Wrex headbutted an omni-shield. The shield couldn’t absorb the blow, and the merc wobbled, giving Kaidan time to sweep the merc off her feet. “Clone mighta knocked something loose!”

“She attacked you too?” Liara asked as she reinforced her singularity.

“Had a couple dozen of those pyjaks on me!” Wrex stopped to shoot a sniper. “She slipped in just when things were getting good!”

Kaidan glanced at Liara, who shared his concern, but there was little they could do now. They both turned back to shooting.

“Besides, Shepard still cured the genophage! Who gives a shit now? We krogan have a lot to prove to the galaxy,” Wrex added right before he biotically charged through a wall and to another merc. “Man, I missed doing that. Used to worry about my sperm count. Not anymore!”

Kaidan fought down a wave of nausea at the thought of _krogan sperm counts_ while dodging fire. “James? How we doing on the back door?”

James cut onto the comm. “Could use support, Major.”

Kaidan fired a few rounds into an approaching merc. A chain overload stunned the merc and his friends long enough for Kaidan to throw them out of the battle. He made a dash around the building, throwing two more mercs as he went, substituting precision with force. His barrier pinged with rifle fire as he ran.

“Kaidan!” Liara puffed into the comm. “Shepard’s moving to the north stairwell of the south building, but many of the guards are gathering there to reach us.”

He fired at a merc before ducking behind a prefab, loading a new thermal clip in his rifle. “Any suggestions?”

“I could send her the maps.”

Kaidan took a swig off an energy drink, keeping low to avoid rifle fire. If the clone were still monitoring Shepard’s communications, she’d know what Shepard meant to do.

“Do it,” he ordered, hoping his instincts were right. Otherwise, he’d just killed Shepard.

Another glance around the corner and he darted from cover, making for James and Cortez at another prefab trailer, this one half-charred and smoking.

“Seriously, Esteban? Have you looked at me lately?!” James yelled as he fired over the makeshift battlement. A grenade lit up the area he’d just plastered with fire. He pumped his fist as the troopers fell back. “I am a _primo_ example of physical excellence!”

Cortez nailed a heavy through the mail slot before attacking one of the tracking drones coming up close. “Look, I’m not saying I’d kick you out of bed or anything—”

“So you’d what, Esteban? Love me and leave me?” James waved off a billow of smoke as he snapped in a fresh clip.

“Why do straight guys—” Cortez paused mid-sentence to shoot at the trooper on their flank. “—always assume that gay guys want them?”

“And why,” Kaidan cut in, “are we having this conversation _in the middle of a firefight_?”

James and Cortez both turned to him, momentarily shocked, forcing Kaidan to pull a few guys out of windows and on to the advancing troopers below. Both men recovered quickly, following Kaidan’s efficient move with several rounds of gunfire.

Once the dust cleared, and the mercenaries stopped coming, Kaidan turned to the two men beside him. “What’s the situation?” he asked. “Unless you two need some privacy first?”

“The basement access point’s welded shut,” Cortez explained while James gawped at Kaidan. “And the heavy I saw using the elevator did it with a retinal scan.”

So bad news with a dollop of worst-case scenario. “Are you hearing this, Liara?”

“Yes, sorry, I’m trying to get this packet out to Shepard on an encrypted channel and – there. Okay—”

_“So you sad bastards found your way here.”_

That voice was Shepard, and yet _not_ Shepard in every way that mattered. He ignored it, focusing on the problem in front of them. “I don’t think I can do a remote hack—”

_“After everything she’s done to you, just to get to me, you still follow her?”_

There was only one way to respond to that kind of scorn. “I’d follow her anywhere.”

The clone had no answer for that. Truthfully, neither did Kaidan. James and Cortez wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Wouldn’t Shepard be able to beat an eye scan?” James wiped the sweat from his brow. “Same DNA and all that?”

“I don’t think so. Her eyes have cybernetic parts.”

“Alenko!” Wrex bellowed into his ear. “If you pyjaks are done flinging shit on that side, get your ass back here!”

Kaidan nodded over at Cortez and James, who stuck to his flank as they moved from cover to cover.

“Kaidan, hurry—”

A C-Sec shuttle roared over the battlefield, bullets spraying everywhere from a gun turret. Mercs ran and screamed, practically climbing over each other to get away from the relentless fire. The gun’s sweep was deadly accurate, conveniently missing Liara, Javik, and Wrex even as more troopers fell victim to its spray.

Or not convenience at all. Garrus Vakarian was an artist with any gun.

“Sorry we’re late!” Garrus called, punctuating with another burst of gunfire. As the shuttle swung back around, Garrus aimed for the troops massing at the sky bridge. The shuttle driver followed his bullet storm with a missile launched straight into the group, eliminating most of the enemies on the bridge, but causing the center to crumble away.

“Stop firing on the bridge!” Kaidan ordered into the comm. As the shuttle turned again, the AA defenses built into the tower activated. A rocket clipped one of the shuttle’s thrusters, sending it into a tailspin. The driver barely managed to right it, landing in a shuddering, smoking pile.

The haze cleared and Garrus swaggered out in battered C-Sec armor, his Mantis slung over his shoulder. A red-clad Tali half-leaned on him. Kaidan rushed over, scanning for injuries. “You hurt?” he asked, not seeing any suit ruptures offhand.

“I’m okay,” Tali said, sounding stuffy. “Just a fever. You don’t have to carry me, Garrus.”

“Right.” Garrus backed a step away, but he kept the quarian in the corner of his eye. “Heard you were having a party, Alenko. I wore my prettiest gown.”

Kaidan couldn’t help the grin that cracked over his face. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you guys.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Garrus eyed the trashed sky bridge through his scope. “Looks like a good time up there.”

Something, or someone, had engaged the CAT6 troopers. They were locked in close-quarters combat near the edge of the broken sky bridge. Garrus fired, and one merc dropped, falling down through the break.

The remaining mercs worked out what was happening, though, and rather than engaging Wrex, swarmed back inside and upstairs. That was the chance they needed.

Kaidan looked over at Tali. “Can you reprogram an elevator?”

Tali scoffed. “I’m a quarian.” He took that as a yes.

Catching Liara’s eye, he motioned her over. To James, Cortez and Javik, he pointed at the front entrance, and they advanced behind Wrex. Gunfire and a cheerful whoop from James told him they found their mark.

“Brooks is the traitor,” Tali announced, her breathing thick.

“Yeah, I figured that out when she put a gun to my head,” Kaidan said, pinching his nose. Sometimes the lulls were worse than the highs when his implant acted up in battle. Time to think about something other than staying alive was time to acknowledge the pain.

Tali and Garrus visibly deflated. “We thought we were helping,” she said. “Instead, we got overtaken by the clone and dumped outside C-Sec. I got caught in the server room.”

“Well, you just helped now. Big time.” Kaidan looked over at Garrus. “How’d she get you?”

Garrus’s mandibles fluttered. “That’s not important right now.”

“Bosh’tet won’t tell me either,” Tali said ruefully. She made a long, disgusting noise. “Sorry. Infection. The clone opened my visor. Where do you need me to go?”

He should’ve insisted she stay back. His knowledge of quarian physiology wasn’t the best but with Tali fighting an infection, another suit rupture could be a death sentence. But they needed her, and she’d refuse, and they’d just end up arguing. Considering the superheated knife poking at his brain, he’d be an enormous hypocrite even asking.

“We need an elevator waiting for Shepard at the fifth floor,” he explained, “to get her to the top. That’s where the clone is.”

“We’re not going up with her?” Tali glanced up at the top of the north tower.

“No.” Kaidan crossed his arms, waiting for the argument. Liara had been cooperative so far, but with Garrus and Tali backing her up, she might take a different stance.

He almost welcomed it. This wasn’t negotiable.

Instead, Garrus and Liara nodded, while Tali ducked her head. “Kaidan, I—”

“I think we’ve all had a pretty bad day, Tali,” Kaidan cut her off. Now was the time for action, not apologies. She glanced up him, and he could almost see her brow furrow through the glass of her visor before she nodded. Even Liara flushed a bit, shame-faced, but said nothing.

Kaidan turned back to the building entrance. “Where’s she at, Liara?”

“No movement on the tracker,” Liara said. At the flicker of panic he couldn’t hide, she said, “I think Shepard’s in a holding position.”

“Then you three get down to the basement and get the elevators working,” Kaidan said. “Liara, if you can’t find cover for Tali, make it.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Major!”

Kaidan activated the comm line. “Where are you at, James?”

“Made it to the fifth floor. Esteban here thinks the Kodiak’s parked in the south tower. After we get Shepard to the top, we’re gonna make a break for it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Kaidan gave Liara, Garrus, and Tali one last sharp nod before they descended into the basement.

The second, third, and fourth floors had stragglers left, the main group massing above. A few pushed past Kaidan before he could attack, muttering something about crazy people while running downstairs as if on fire. One of them actually was.

The fifth floor was a morass of exposed pipe, blood stains, screaming, and dark energy. Javik juggled two mercs in the air while Wrex head-butted another into submission, four more climbing up behind him. James and Cortez provided covering fire from behind a marble receptionist’s desk.

“So what the hell is it?” James’s voice boomed over the fray. “Is it the muscles? You not into the muscles?”

“The muscles are fine!” Cortez yelled back, barely audible over the skull-punching jangle of his Avenger. An icy blast from the cryo ammo he used whizzed past.

They were still at that? Kaidan rolled his eyes as he overloaded the frozen troopers, the burst explosion flinging ice particles through the room. Javik launched one of the mercs caught in the fray into an exposed-pipe wall.

“Fine? _Fine_?” Something in the far corner exploded. “Are you shitting me, Esteban? You really gonna play it like you never—”

“In my cycle, we had a saying!” Javik fired his particle beam into two floating mercs. “Find a room!”

Face cherry-red, James leapt over the desk, slamming his shotgun into another merc’s gut with a frustrated snarl. His omni-blade flashed in the light, slicing as he fought off another’s shock stick.

Closest to Kaidan were two techs, trying to activate their combat drones, so his own omni-blades gleamed to life, slicing first through the drones before coming down on the engineers behind it. One rolled away as the other blocked him with his baton, Kaidan manipulating his biotics to bear down on the stick. It snapped in half, and the merc crawled backwards, swinging his leg beneath Kaidan.

He caught on it and staggered, giving the second tech enough time to get behind him. Pain laced through him as the shock stick struck, but Kaidan pushed out his barrier reflexively, the surge of dark energy enough to send them flying upwards. He shook the stars from his eyes and plunged the blade deep into a drifting merc’s chest, and flung a bolt of biotic energy at the second.

“HAH!” Wrex roared from where he fended off his group. “Who wants to be the next smear on the walls?”

Wrex was closest to the elevator exit, and they needed a clear path. Kaidan had just enacted a pull when Wrex bowled over his group with a biotic charge, a krogan wrecking ball smashing through the room. With a vicious laugh, he blew the head off one mercenary and pushed his barrier out to dangle three more. A quick tug from Kaidan sent them out the window.

“Kaidan, this is Tali. We’re almost ready.”

He glanced around the scene, looking for the telltale glint of a tactical cloak. She had to be close. With careful movements, he slid around the edges if the fight, blood and eezo crackling in the air, shooting as he moved towards the elevators. “How is it down there?”

“It’s not too bad. Garrus and Liara are— _achoo!_ —holding them off.”

Things kept moving. A merc got in close, and Kaidan responded with a hard strike and another biotic punch, energy ripping through any blocking techniques. A few quick jabs and he went down, just in time for Kaidan to thrust a biotically-enhanced elbow strike through another’s visor.

“We’re ready, Kaidan. Let me know when to activate the elevator.”

Kaidan stepped back from the fray and dodged behind a plant well. “If you can hear me, get to the service elevator. Now.”

He stood up to see a glint at the window, to watch the elevator open. Javik and Wrex lifted and shot up the two mercs who rushed to the doors.

Kaidan thought he caught her eye, not that he could tell. There’d been stillness to the distorted light, a sort of mute regard.

“Now,” he told Tali. The doors snapped shut.

He hesitated before whispering, “Be careful, Shepard.” Then Kaidan cut the link.

 

 

**_six._ **

There was a trick Shepard learned after the raid, refined in the years following Torfan and working in a black ops division. She collapsed into herself.

She tunneled her vision into her mission, made it her purpose. It was a skill born from drifting through the dregs of the galaxy, nurtured by time away from humans, driven by a need to keep moving, to never look back at the wreckage in her wake. Almost, but not quite, like the battle sleep Thane had once spoken to her about: her missions left her keyed up, reveling in the rush, and crashing in her rare downtimes.

Shepard was a fighter, not a lover. Always had been. Losing herself in the mission had once been natural as breathing.

The Normandy, the beacon, and her team dismantled it. _Kaidan_ dismantled _her_. She learned that after Horizon, when she’d tried to leave her pain behind and block out everything but the Collectors. She’d even ignored scarred, brittle Garrus in the gun battery, lost in his own pack of demons. She’d failed, and for a time, she’d been petty enough to hate Kaidan for it.

Now he was doing it again, because since she’d walked away in the Archives, Shepard had remembered, and asked herself how she’d ever forgotten. Her and her gun, only the ghost was flesh and waited for her above. Where the clone went, Shepard followed, careful and patient, waiting to see what dark prison her twisted shadow constructed. She watched the way the light bounced wrong off her; tiny distortions let her follow the path. All she’d gambled brought her here.

She’d looked back at the apartment. And she’d looked back as the elevator doors closed, drawn by the tangled anger, pain, and _longing_ in his whiskey-brown eyes. Already the cracks were re-forming.

This was not the time for cracks. Sometimes Shepard doubted there’d ever be a time.

As the doors opened, she removed her helmet, tossing it into a corner.

The top floor should have been wall-to-floor windows. Instead, hastily attached pre-fab covered three sides, while the fourth was open to the elements, kept in check with a portable barrier generator. Other than building support beams, the only signs of life were a single cot, set flush against the wall, and a large black terminal.

Her clone stood at the edge, the void calling them both. Even from here, Shepard felt it. It was a dare, a challenge as much as it was a promise. She’d never listened, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t someday.

“About time you showed up, Maria.” The clone was neutral, almost doleful. “How’d you find me?”

“It was easy.” Shepard crossed her arms, her hip tilting at an angle. “I asked myself: ‘If I were batshit insane, where would I go?’ And here we are, seventy-five stories up.”

The clone kept silent, pacing along the edge. “But you knew the answer. We share so much more than DNA, you know.”

Had that dead gleam ever graced Shepard’s eyes?

Why ask herself questions when she already knew the answers?

She needed to usurp the narrative, steal away the clone’s control. Bad enough Shepard let her set the time and place.

“Actually,” Shepard conceded, “Brooks helped.” She pitched it as a confession, sheepish, but a touch of malice playing on her mouth.

Though the changes were slight, the clone’s demeanor transformed; a straightening of the back, a tensing of the jaw, a new gleam in those opaque eyes followed Shepard’s announcement. “Where is she?”

“The bottom of the Potomac River?” At the first hint of annoyance from the clone, Shepard stroked her chin, mock-thoughtful. “Ohhh. Did you mean that double-crossing shit you sent to infiltrate my team? She’s dissolving in a Keeper vat.” At the narrowed eyes and lowered brow, Shepard added, “Don’t give me that look. I shot her first; I’m not heartless.”

Shepard reveled in the tension radiating off the clone, willed her to snap and let them both finish this. Instead, the clone folded inward, her stilted movement the only sign she felt any emotion at all. “Thanks. She’d outlived her usefulness.”

“No problem. She was just dying to betray you,” Shepard added, enjoying the vein throbbing in the clone’s throat. “Couldn’t give away the location of your little hideout fast enough.”

“Is that right.” The words were tight, clipped.

“Can I give you a tip? One Shepard to another?” She smirked. “Watch out for the users. They’ll promise you the galaxy until the moment their asses are hanging out, and then they cut you loose. I figured that one out pretty fast. I’d have thought you’d be quicker on the uptake.”

The clone’s face shuttered, leaving her a cold shell. She moved away from the open-air edge of the building, circling around Shepard. “No, it’s okay. Really. You reminded me of why I’ve done all this.”

“Done...what?” Shepard asked, moving to keep her distance from the clone. “Attacked my team? Spouted off cryptic speeches? Skulked around in an abandoned building?”

“Didn’t you prove my point?” The clone cocked her head, a thin, amused curl to her lips that Shepard would never call a smile. “Look how much faster you move without them, just you and your gun. The only reason I got the jump on you in the Archives is because you tried to protect Brooks.”

“Huh.” Shepard snorted. “Last I saw, nine of my people are kicking the shit out of a hundred of yours. All to help me get up here.” A gesture she couldn’t comprehend, couldn’t allow herself to comprehend because if she did, she’d have to think, really think, about the last two days.

“You would’ve found a way up. You always do.” The clone dismissed them all so easily, and Shepard wanted to snarl, to force her to listen, to make her _understand_. She settled for keeping up her movements, twin stars pulling and repelling each other’s orbits. “When you want something, nothing stops you. That’s been the problem all along. You’re so focused on _them_ you can’t see the bigger picture.”

“I see the bigger picture every time I close my eyes,” Shepard snapped, stepping forward.

“That’s not the real you!” the clone shrieked, so earnest she was nearly heartrending. “That’s what the Alliance, what the Council, what even Cerberus want you to think. Want _us_ to think. They want us doubting, want us ashamed, so they can control us. You’re letting them, and it’s making you soft. They’re so deep in your head you can’t even see what they’ve done to you.”

Shepard watched her explode, watched the dark flush of her cheeks, the crazed black gleam of her eyes, the way she jerked and twitched as she moved. Her passion was an ugly thing, and Shepard stepped back, cringing away from her dark reflection.

_Through a test tube darkly._

She steadied herself, straightening her back as she responded. “Why do you care?”

The clone crossed her arms, slow and easy the way Shepard had. “And why did _you_ come here?”

Words piled in her throat, lurched up, burned holes in her tongue. Her thoughts jumbled with her questions, the secrets, the old ghosts carried through the years clashing with the person she’d thought she was becoming. The truth would not unstick.

The clone smiled. “That’s okay,” she said serenely. “I already know why.”

“Then explain it,” she said, and the words were a gauntlet thrown on the ground. “Tell me why I came.”

They continued their slow tango, keeping enough distance to prevent a lightning strike. Neither cloaked; there were no shadows in which to hide.

“Because you want to be free again.” The clone leaned a fraction forward, the slash of her brows pulled low over her lightless eyes. “I saw you in the Archives, Maria. You were drooping under the weight of your followers. If you’d just let yourself, you could unleash all that hate, all that violence inside you against the Reapers. And you want that, don’t you? So you came looking for me, because I know what you forgot.”

Shepard clenched her fists, hoping that would hide the tremble. All it did was send the shaking up her arms. “And what is it you know?”

“That freedom’s just a trigger pull away. Observe.” The clone gestured to the black terminal with a flourish.

“I assume this has something to do with you not using the Killswitch files to actually kill my crew?” Shepard asked, pasting a bored look on her face. “Because you went to a lot of trouble for no good reason.”

She laughed, a pitiless noise, and Shepard flinched. “I’m not going to be the one who kills them, Maria. You are.”

Shepard’s insides froze over, blood pooling in her icy veins. Even her heart beat sluggish and wrong. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“When I attacked your crew, I planted gas tracers inside each of them. Vega. Cortez. The bug. Zorah. Vakarian. T’Soni. Two for Urdnot. Moreau...Alenko.” She lingered on the last. “You remember the gas tracers, don’t you?”

Her throat seized. “You know I do.” She’d been the top field tester for Alliance R&D. Poisons were tricky across species, but every known species had at least one circulatory system. Thus the experiment in cross-species killing: a tiny capsule, injected into the circulatory system, that, once activated would lodge itself near the aortic valve. Genetically engineered bacteria would produce an air bubble, causing a gas embolism. Because they could be activated at any time, an assassin could wait weeks, until the needle tracks healed and the victim couldn’t reach help, to strike. The Alliance had ceased the project as part of a Council treaty on weapons development. They were nasty, and, as Shepard could testify from field testing, very effective.

Press a button, _pull a trigger_ , and they’d all be dead.

“Meanwhile, my team on the Normandy installed a VI that can drive the ship right through the Presidium. Even fires the cannons a few times. If I angled right – and I angled right – the death toll will be in the tens of thousands. That’s not even counting the blow to the war effort.”

The clone didn’t say it, but Shepard knew she’d aim right at the Council’s central chambers. Thousands of politicians, diplomats and colonial representatives crammed in the chambers daily, pleading for aid. In one attack, the clone would undo everything they’d worked so hard to amass. Shepard almost went cross-eyed calculating the implications.

“Wasn’t this the Normandy you planned to fly around in so you’d look legitimate?” she asked, swallowing her dread.

“You can stop it,” the clone said, smirking. “You can stop one with the terminal. Choosing one automatically triggers the other. If you don’t choose in an hour, they both go off. And if you try to fuck with the system, same thing. Your crew...or your war. That’s your choice.”

The words stole the air from Shepard’s chest. Blood evaporated from her veins, leaving her light-headed yet sunken in horror. “Asking if you’re fucking insane would be redundant,” she said through clenched teeth, “so I’ll just ask _why_.”

“Because you could be so much more without them holding you back, Maria,” the clone explained. She spoke slowly, as if pointing out the obvious to a small child. “The fact you haven’t already marched over to that console to stop the Normandy says it all. You pitied that bug back on Noveria and gave the Reapers a new troop supply line. You lost salarian support because you couldn’t bear to make that overgrown turtle cry. And how many millions of humans have died back on Earth while you play nice with the Council? It’s almost cruel, taking you on while they’re still alive. Once they’re gone, you’ll be free again, just like you were after Mindoir, and the way I was born. And then maybe you and I will find out who the _real_ Shepard is.”

Shepard listened to her speak. She would’ve liked to call it a rant, but no rant had ever been delivered with such cold, clipped precision. “And if I want to be ‘free’ that badly, why...this?” She flung her hand towards the terminal.

The clone smiled, shaking her head. “Sometimes we want things that aren’t good for us. I’m making it easy for you. They’ve been listening over the comm lines I hacked. If I opened up the line, they’d tell you they love you but to do the right thing, wouldn’t they? Because you’re only a good person when they’re watching. So do the right thing by all those innocent people in the Presidium.”

Her breath caught. “And what about my crew? They’re innocent in this.” She struggled to keep her voice even. “Joker, James, Steve? Wrex and Javik? They’re innocent. Garrus and Tali are innocent. Liara is innocent. _Kaidan_ is innocent. This is about you, me, and my sins.”

“Our sins,” the clone corrected.

“Sure, whatever.” Shepard kept pushing down the panic bubbling inside her veins. It wasn’t working, and for a hysterical moment she wondered if there were gas tracers inside _her_ , bringing everything to the surface. “I’ll go where you want, do what you want. You can kill me right now. Just...stop this. _Please_.” Begging was pathetic, but she’d be damned before she let her pride get in the way of their lives.

The clone snorted, unmoved. “From Saint Shepard to Maria the Martyr.” Her eyes narrowed. “Watching you beg is cute, but we both know you’d turn on me like a snake on a frog the moment you got what you wanted. And you’re wasting time, Maria.”

Shepard could keep pleading, but the clone wouldn’t be moved. She knew that much. She could attack, but the clone would evade, let the clock run out. She could look for a solution once she reached the console, but the clone wouldn’t tolerate her lingering over the controls too long.

There was no choice.

There had never been a choice for her.

_Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amen._ 1

 

 

**_seven._ **

They’d all stopped to listen, even the mercs.

“My ears might be going,” Joker asked over the comm, “but did the clone just say we’re all gonna die?”

“She did,” Liara confirmed dully.

“Oh, _Keelah_.”

“Well I’ll be a salarian’s left tit,” Wrex grumbled, flinging the closest merc into the wall. No one cared.

“ _¡Chingado!_ ” James cursed, spitting on the ground. “Was that was those bug bites were all about? That _perra_ is all kinds of _loca_.”

Kaidan touched the sore spot on his neck as if by reflex. The area had swelled up, but otherwise there was no hint of its true, insidious purpose. He saw Wrex rub below his chin, and then his world went gray.

Was this it? After Eden Prime and Virmire, Ilos and the Citadel, after Horizon and Rannoch and Thessia, they’d die here, at the whim of that _thing_ wearing Shepard’s face? And they would die, because the clone had just enough Shepard inside her to not leave a way out. Kaidan’s stomach lurched just thinking about it. Shepard would push the button, even if it broke her heart, because that was war, that Garrus’s ruthless calculus at its zenith.

Loathing burned in him like wildfires over dead grass fields, like the plasma slice of a Reaper’s gun. That the clone dragged him into this, dragged them all into this, was the cruelest cut of all. Even the mercs had vague, pitying stances, as if continuing to fight would be cruel.

“Liara T’Soni.” Javik was oddly unsteady. “It has been an honor.”

“Javik...” Liara’s voice was tight with unshed tears.

The clone claimed Shepard couldn’t hear them, but Kaidan opened up the comm line anyway, his fingers trembling as they ghosted over the holographic interface. His anger, his pain drained away, leaving him with the only emotion that mattered now.

“It’s okay,” he rasped, too low for the mercs to hear. His voice cracked over the words. “I love you. I’ll love you until the end of time, you understand? Don’t you blame yourself.”

He forced down a halting, shuddering breath, and waited for the end.

_‘What the hell are you doing?’_ Kaidan couldn’t tell who said it, but whoever it was, her voice cracked, hard.

_‘Choosing,’_ the other replied, presumably Shepard, all the warmth leeched from her. As if it never even existed.

_‘But you...you can’t do that!’_

Kaidan rejoiced, assuming Shepard found a way to wriggle out of this latest catastrophe. Then the clone spoke again. _‘You can’t choose them!’_

_‘Why not?’_

Two of the mercs stared up at the ceiling, disbelief blaring on their faces. “Wait. Is that crazy bitch picking her team?”

“I think so, yeah,” said another.

“Holy shit.”

Everything erupted. Kaidan’s comm line jammed with screams in his ear, the mercenaries opened fire, and Wrex charged, roaring and knocking through the new attacks. Kaidan staggered backwards to the first cover he found. He gripped a planter, his world still tilting.

_‘Why not? Why_ not _? Because you’ll kill thousands of innocent people, that’s why not!’_

_‘I kill people every day for them. Why is this any different? And what do you care?’_

“What is the Commander doing?” Javik demanded as he fired his pistol at the nearest heavies. “We are nothing compared to stopping the Reapers!”

“Uh, Kaidan?” Garrus’s voice in his ear cut through the whirling thoughts. “Any suggestions?”

He took two deep breaths, his mind cycling through their options. “Joker, how long would it take you to get to the Normandy?”

“Uh...driving legally? Forty minutes.”

This time his fingers were smooth over the omni-tool interface. “This transponder will broadcast to C-Sec vehicles that you’re acting on Spectre authority. Try not to kill anyone.”

“Oh, then ten minutes. Maybe eight.”

“Then what the hell are you waiting for?” Kaidan barked into the comm. “We’ll figure the rest out when you get there.”

“Right. Off to save my baby!”

Kaidan stood up, making a run for the stairs as the team kept battling the mercenaries. A quick slide across the marble got him to the stairwell in an ungraceful lump, biotic reflexes cushioning the impact.

_‘The Council will excoriate you. The Alliance will be in tatters. They will hate you for doing this._ He _will hate you for doing this.’_

_Never_ , Kaidan thought, but he had to admit, he was pretty damn confused.

_‘So what? They’ll be alive.’_

He stopped to fire at a pair of mercenaries who popped out from behind a table, then rummaged for a cool thermal clip. “Tali, any ideas?”

“It’s too dangerous to try and disable the tracers.” She made a low, disgusting noise. “Even a simple error could trigger the failsafe.”

“Okay.” He willed himself calm, and half-succeeded. “Fifth floor team, get to the Kodiak.”

“I’d like to see them try and stop me, Major,” Cortez said in a dangerous voice.

_‘Get out of my way!’_

_‘You’re making the wrong choice!’_

_‘You’re the one who set up this fucked-up little game!’_ Shepard screamed, the comm channel crackling. _‘You told me to choose, and this is my choice.’_

Kaidan shook his head. Trying to follow either of their logic was beyond him right now. “Basement team. Make sure no one else can access the elevators, and then get to the first floor.

“On it,” Liara said. She sounded strained, most likely maintaining a barrier.

It took crucial minutes to fight his way to the stairwell, his amp burning as he shot and threw his way through the platoon massed on the floor. When he made it there, Kaidan sprinted down the steps, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble as his ears followed the fight raging above.

_‘What about the mission? What about victory at any cost?’_ the clone demanded, a faint slam echoing on the line. _‘Isn’t that what you’d tell the brass when they demanded to know why you tortured your captives? Killed whole families just to take down one target? Let civilians die to finish your mission? What makes them different?’_

_‘I won’t go back,’_ Shepard growled. _‘You hear me? I won’t go back. They’re the only thing standing between me and becoming_ you _.’_

The fight at the top thundered over the sounds of fighting above and below him. On the third floor, a team of three waited for him, and Kaidan eluded most of their fire by rushing behind a wall, a pistol shot grazing his left arm. A lance of fire shot through his armor, reverberating in his skull. He caught his breath and activated his medi-gel dispenser before stepping out to engage.

“Get the mech ready!” one of them ordered into his omni-tool. Kaidan groaned, the extra complication driving another needle into his head.

“Hey, this is Joker, and I’ve reached the Normandy, if anyone cares. I mean, maybe you guys already have this wrapped up or something? Please tell me you do.” He couldn’t stop to answer, but someone would. Kaidan could trust in that.

_‘Why them? Why are they so special?’_

_‘Ask yourself!’_ Shepard spat the words like an accusation. _‘You don’t fool me!’_

_‘What’s that supposed to mean?’_

_‘I saw everything back at my apartment!’_

He held his barrier steady, gathering his energy together as the mercs exhausted their clips on the field. The moment the guns dropped, he released, launching the energy through the room almost like a shockwave. His head pulsed with pain, but the crashing effect sent the mercs flying.

“Guys,” Kaidan said, slumping against the wall for support, “I think we have an Atlas incoming!”

“We have already engaged, Major,” Javik came over the comm line. “The humans James and Cortez are approaching the Kodiak.”

“So we’re just leaving Shepard here?” Garrus’s flanging voice fizzled and cracked.

“Stopping the Normandy is priority one.” No one gainsaid him. Just because Shepard disregarded everything at stake didn’t mean the rest of them could.

Kaidan stopped at a window. The mech was in the central plaza, firing up at the skyway where Wrex and Javik fought. He couldn’t see the rest of the team, but there might’ve been some action on the other tower.

_‘You couldn’t do it, could you? You couldn’t kill Kaidan. You couldn’t kill any of them. No matter how close you get, something kept you from taking that last step. The one you can’t reverse. You cooked up this fucked-up game to force_ me _to do what_ you _couldn’t!’_

The fog lifted, the light bulb clicked on, the pieces locked into place. From his vantage he saw Wrex pause. She’d known all along, hadn’t she? His memories from the apartment were hazy, hyper-fixed on sickness and shame, but Shepard had seen something else.

He was running low, on strength, on calories, on willpower. Fumbling through his pack, he found half an energy bar and crammed it into his mouth, choking down the half-chewed lumps.

_‘They’re pulling you back from the ledge, aren’t they? Making you stop, think. Just like they pulled me.’_

_‘And now you drag them around like a security blanket!’_

Kaidan stumbled down the steps and into the lobby, spotting Tali by the elevator. She talked Joker through opening the Normandy’s doors while she fiddled with a panel. “Okay, now the bypass I sent you is a bit tricky, so if your tool turns red, stop immediately...”

_‘Freedom’s just a trigger-pull away. Isn’t that what you told me?’_

“Keelah,” Tali gasped, interrupting her spiel. She looked over at Kaidan. “What is Shepard doing?”

“We can worry about that later, Tali.” Kaidan laid a hand on her shoulder. “Now why don’t you show me what that overclocked Nexus of yours can do?”

“Hmph,” she said, but she accepted his encouragement, and returned to her hack of the lobby panel.

The whistle of a rocket drew him outside, where Liara and Garrus feinted around the Atlas mech charging around the plaza. Liara burned a bright, wild blue as Garrus fired at the glass. “Kaidan!” he patted the space next to him. “Glad to see you won’t miss all the fun.”

_‘We were free!’_ that unhinged yowl definitely came from the clone. ‘ _And_ they _brought it all back!’_

_‘You really think that?’_ Shepard’s voice pierced through the smoke and fire of battle. _‘You read some reports. You don’t know a damn thing! They don’t talk about the alcohol, the sex, the isolation. The complete fucking lack of human contact just so I’d be dead enough inside to get the job done!’_

Even with the cacophony of Atlas gunfire and surging dark energy, Kaidan’s heart twisted at the naked pain in Shepard’s voice, confessions ripped from her that no one should ever hear, much less celebrate. Without thinking, without a mnemonic, he hurled a wild, vicious blast of dark energy at the mech as everything inside him screamed for a place to vent his rage.

_‘But you got it done! That’s all that matters!’_

_‘You think it was about the_ job _? I was venting my anger on whoever got in my way. I wasn’t a person, I was a chalk outline. I was an unmarked mass grave.’_

The Atlas tipped, rocking on its legs. Garrus followed Kaidan’s blast with a high-impact shot, and the weight of the Atlas smashed itself into the ground. Its legs kicked the air uselessly.

Liara pivoted towards Kaidan, stunned by his outburst. Garrus’s mandibles spread wide when his mouth opened in shock. As the lingering dark energy clashed with the prone drive core, the Atlas blasted itself apart in a white-hot flood of eezo, metal, and glass. Only Liara’s hastily-raised barrier kept shrapnel from showering them.

As the rain of fire ended, Kaidan collapsed, pain lacing through his head and arm. Satisfying as the blast had been, he’d pay for it later. Liara plopped down beside him, a nasty-looking cut dripping on her forehead.

_‘It doesn’t matter, you know!’_ Shepard and the clone still fought above them, every word a new shriek of pain. _‘It doesn’t matter how many bodies you pack in that hole inside your heart. It will never get full.’_

_‘Shut. UP!’_

“Kaidan...” Liara’s hands drifted over his wounds.

“I’m okay,” he assured her, but he accepted her hand to help him up. “Cortez, where are we with—”

The Kodiak zoomed out of the south tower, guns picking at the last of the mercs on the skyway’s broken walk. He heard a loud whoop from a human voice, too gravelly to be James. One quick, smooth turn brought the shuttle down to ground level, and the door lifted open.

James and Wrex hopped out wearing matching smirks. “Looks like you took care of things, Major,” James remarked.

Kaidan huffed, his heart still racing. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Garrus rushed to meet Tali at the entrance. She sagged when he snaked his arm around her, meekly accepting the support.

“ _Garrus_.” Tali spoke in a watery, trembling voice as she stroked his scarred cheek. “If something goes wrong, I want you know—”

“Don’t.” Garrus put a talon to her suit’s speaker. “We’re not going to let a Cerberus organ farm take anything away from us. Got it?”

Tali snuffled, but she gave Garrus a weak nod. As they stumbled to the shuttle, Tali put a hand on Garrus’s arm, stopping him in front of Kaidan. She pointed a shaky hand at the entrance.

“I hacked the express elevator for you,” Tali said. “Go help Shepard.”

“I—” Kaidan swallowed, screwing his eyes shut. He longed to take what she offered and run, but they needed to stop the Normandy. His head dropped low, exhaustion and pain overwhelming his brain as raked frustrated fingers through his hair. He tore his gaze from the door and back to Tali. “We have to save the Normandy.”

“We’ll take care of it, Kaidan.” Liara was in full wise asari mode, a beacon of calm even with blood trickling over her painted brow. “Shepard needs help. Your help.”

A shadow crossed over Liara’s eyes, and all at once Kaidan knew how much those words cost her. She recovered fast, urging him forward with a gentle swell of biotic energy. After warring with himself a few moments longer, he relented, gratitude on his lips even as he turned away.

_‘I will destroy the Reapers,’_ Shepard cried _, ‘but I don’t have to burn down the galaxy to do it._ They _showed me that.’_

They had seventeen minutes.

Seventeen minutes before they lost the war.

 

 

**_eight._ **

Tali called it an express elevator, but that was a lie. Kaidan sat in that box for an eternity, fury and fatigue and fear a bilious churn as he ascended. Pain snaked around the edges, sinking its fangs deeper into his skull.

_Was it worth it?_ Kaidan wanted to scream the question at her. Shepard’s dark gamble, the cat-and-mouse game she’d subjected them to, hung over his mind as he listened to her fight with the clone. Would she claim she was as much a victim of the clone’s manipulations as the rest of them? Or would she tip her head and tell him she did what she had to do?

He loved Shepard. He would always love her.

Right now, though, Kaidan mostly wanted to strangle her.

The doors slid open, and Kaidan had only a moment to react to the tableau before him: the clone, N7-clad and black-eyed, looming over Shepard with a forked and crackling omni-blade. Just as Shepard had found him this morning.

Kaidan snapped.

A full biotic kick wrenched the clone off Shepard. She screeched as she sailed backwards, limbs flailing, hair twisting around her. His furious energy shorted out the barrier at the open wall, and the clone dangled past the edge, over the streets seventy-five stories below.

Despite his burbling wrath, he held the field steady, checked by the clone’s too-familiar features. Even knowing she was monster, she was a monster with Shepard’s face, and that was a difficult obstacle to mentally overcome.

Not that he’d let that stop him.

“No!” Shepard sprang up, her dark hair half-pulled from its ponytail as she sprinted to the edge. She tried to reach for the clone, but Kaidan held her half a meter out of reach. She turned back to him, face ashen. “Pull her back!”

Kaidan stared at her, shocked she’d even suggest it, since her bloodthirst far outstripped his. “Shepard—”

“ _Pull her back, Kaidan_!”

Kaidan longed to yell at her, remind her of everything that monster had done to them, to _him_. He almost did. Then he looked in her eyes.

He’d had the privilege of seeing Shepard at her most vulnerable, but he’d never seen her quite so desperate. Tears hovered close to falling.

And Kaidan knew that dropping the clone would be a blow she’d never recover from. Perhaps a blow he’d never recover from, either.

With a weary sigh, he tugged the clone back to the edge, enough for Shepard to reach out and pull her the rest of the way. The clone sank to the ground as Kaidan released the field, landing on her hands and knees. For his part, Kaidan doubled over, breathing hard as his overtaxed mind rushed him.

The clone flung her head up, looking straight at him. Pure venom swam in her gaze.

“Why?” It was an accusation, not a question.

Shepard’s eyes were hooded, their fraught edge already fading. “I didn’t know how far out on the ledge I was until someone offered me a hand.”

_Anderson_ , Kaidan realized. Anderson, and the Normandy.

The clone turned to Shepard, lips shaking but eyes defiant. “You don’t have to pretend. He wants me dead as much as you do.”

Shepard swallowed, her throat working with a tremble. “I didn’t come here to kill you.”

Protests hummed in his mouth, but his hazy memory assailed him with her words back at the apartment: _I have to stop her_ and _until I neutralize her_ and _I have to do this, Kaidan_.

She looked at him, and it was suddenly, painfully clear why Shepard had come here, why she’d come alone, why she’d wagered everything to see this through. Because Shepard was pure, naked agony in that moment, trying to save someone that no one else believed worth saving.

And there, at last, was the answer Kaidan came here to find.

The last of his anger sputtered and died, and Kaidan welcomed it. Despite the smoking ruins behind her, Kaidan couldn’t find it in him to rob Shepard of whatever peace she’d find here.

“Major Alenko.” EDI’s bright voice rang on his comm line, more metallic than usual, but still a relief. “Jeff and Tali have reactivated me.”

Kaidan’s lips curled upward, and some of the shadows lifted from Shepard’s face. “How are you feeling, EDI?” he asked.

“Aside from irrational feedback loops prioritizing the decapitation of Shepard’s clone, I am currently operating at 87 percent capacity. I am attempting now to disable the VI installed by Shepard’s clone without triggering the tracers, but have encountered an error. A pass phrase is required to go further.”

Kaidan cocked his head. “Can’t you brute-force it with a dictionary crack and a voice emulator?”

“The original stated phrase lasted nearly 20 seconds. My chances of assembling the correct word combination before the timer runs out are lower than three percent.”

Shepard activated her omni-tool, holding it to her clone’s lips. “See? You can still end this insanity,” she said, choking back a sob. Kaidan kept a steady glare on the clone, his arms crossed as dark energy shimmered around him.

The clone was silent, blank as she glanced between them. Then her head drooped, and she sighed, releasing whatever fight still lived in her. Finally, the clone spoke:

“ _That which we are, we are;_ _  
 _One equal temper of heroic hearts,_  
 _Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will_  
 _To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.__ ”2

Silent tears rolled down Shepard’s cheeks; Kaidan’s eyes burned as he struggled to stay impassive. He strode to the terminal, the program’s timer and holographic buttons blinking up at him. The screen was split, the left side waiting for final confirmation before disabling the tracers’ transmitters.

“Program disabled,” EDI announced.

Kaidan slammed his palm on the console.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 “Hail Mary” prayer. _Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen._  
>  2 The final lines of Tennyson’s _Ulysses_.


	7. Citadel: Aftermath

**_one._ **

The stasis barriers had fallen, but the walls were higher than ever. Chill winds and thin air blew around them, and Shepard shivered as the anger and adrenaline she’d thrived on finally ebbed.

They were too alike, their resemblance beyond skin and sunken into bones. Brown flesh smoothed over the molten metal within. Guns and ghosts. A razor wire stretching over the years, and never a soft place to land, not for ones like them.

They would be lucky to end up as chalk outlines.

“Could you give us a minute?” Shepard asked Kaidan, well aware she’d already asked too much. She took pride in how her voice didn’t crack this time. Kaidan’s brows pulled in that way they always did when she asked him something crazy, but he jerked a quick nod at her and stepped back near the elevator. His eyes stayed trained on the clone, waiting for her to break the calm.

The clone, for her part, stood at the edge, eyes opaque. Shepard stepped beside her and ignored the vise clamped onto her heart. “What do you remember?” she asked.

“Nothing.” The words were too quick, but Shepard didn’t press. Let her keep her secrets; God knew Shepard had no right to judge. They stood, silent, as Shepard considered her next words.

“The French have a word for it.” Shepard spoke too quietly for Kaidan to hear. “ _L’appel du vide_. ‘The call of the void.’ It’s the instinctive urge to jump from high places.” Her lips shook over the words.

The clone wet her lips. “I didn’t know that.” She also spoke low, and couldn’t banish her shaking.

“You didn’t know to ask.” Shepard stared out at the horizon. It was always the horizon for them, some point fixed one meter too far to ever reach. Sunset on the Citadel was a decline, not a descent.

When the clone crossed her arms, Shepard realized she’d already crossed her own. They mirrored one another, the battered archetype and her sleek, defective copy. “How could you do this to yourself?” the clone asked, her eyes squeezing shut. “Don’t tell me you never looked back when it’s _always_ grinding at you.”

“I honestly don’t know,” Shepard admitted. She glanced back at Kaidan, but his face had been wiped clean. “But I love them more than I hate myself.”

That coaxed a humorless laugh from the clone. “That’s a hell of a lot of love.”

“Yeah,” Shepard rubbed her straining eyes. “What happens next?”

The clone gazed down at the city below, streams of cars and buildings lit like Christmas trees. “Void’s calling.” She stepped up to the ledge. “Think I’ll listen.”

Shepard stayed where she was, even as her insides threatened to strangle themselves. “I won’t stop you.” She could. She stopped Samara, hadn’t she?

“No,” the clone sighed. “You wouldn’t.”

And Shepard didn't, but there was the still the rush of air filling the space where the clone once was, an absence keenly felt as Shepard watched her descent. It was beautiful, in a way. Not a tragedy. A last breath at the time and place of her choosing. There was freedom in the void, and Shepard wouldn't begrudge her that.

What was left was an ache; an infection freshly split open, dead flesh cut away without anesthetic. As the last two days washed over her, a blood tide threatened to pull her under. All the reckless destruction, all the misery she’d put everyone through, just to save someone who could never, _ever_ be saved.

She looked to Kaidan again, rock-steady, endless patience to her ever-lit firework fuse.

Why had she even bothered?

“Shepard,” Kaidan said, and then his hand was on her shoulder but it was wrong, all fucking _wrong_.

“Please don’t.” She wrenched away, her voice small. “Please don’t pretend that didn’t just happen. That none of it happened. It _did_.” There it was, the fist-punch to the gut. The needles in her brain. And the _pain_ , always the pain, lurking right below the anger, threatening to envelop her the moment she relaxed her trigger finger.

“I’m not pretending anything, Shepard—”

“ _No!_ ” Shepard threw her hands up, fighting his attempts to move closer. “I know we need to talk. I _get_ that.” Her words were air leaking from bicycle tires. “But I—I just—I should go deal with... _that_.” She gestured wildly to the window, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. “I should go. Yeah, I need to—go. I should _go_.”

“Shepard.” This time he slipped through the fireworks behind her eyes.

She flew into his arms, a cry escaping her sandy throat. As hard as she gripped, he gripped tighter, as if they could crawl in to each other’s veins and steal the comfort hiding there.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” she sobbed. “I’m so fucking _sorry_.” The words were a mantra chanted into his throat as he held her shuddering frame, rocking them both.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, stroking her hair. His hand shook. “It’s over, Shepard.”

 

She lost track of time, lost time itself while they clung to each other in those stolen moments. In time, her sobs quieted to whimpers, her breathing slowed to almost normal, and the vise clamp in her heart loosened.

All their moments were stolen, but moments were all they needed.

She pulled away, but Kaidan tugged her hand back, twining his fingers with hers. They rode down the elevator hand in hand, and Shepard was grateful for that small connection.

“I still have to go,” she admitted. C-Sec sirens blared in the distance. No doubt Hackett and the Council would catch wind of the fight and demand answers.

Plus, arrangements had to be made for the body. No one else would care, and Shepard couldn’t quite live with the loneliness of that, of dying unwanted and unmourned. It struck at already-raw nerves. She couldn’t ask that of Kaidan or any other member of the crew, though, not after what she and the clone put them through.

“Go ahead.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll deal with the paperwork. You do what you need to do. Just...come home, okay?”

She almost started crying again, barely holding herself together as she nodded. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

Kaidan’s chucked her under the chin, his half-smile not reaching his damp eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

 

 

**_two._ **

As much as Kaidan longed for a soft bed and a syringe full of sedatives, the evening wasn’t over.

After he’d waved off the C-Sec investigators with a flash of his credentials and a phone call to Commander Bailey, he headed back to the Normandy. The CIC was still a littered, half-torn mess, but Chakwas had temporarily moved back into the med bay. A call to the remnants of Alliance R&D yielded a way to synthesize a neutralizing agent for the gas tracers’ bacteria, rendering them harmless.

“A dreadful business,” Chakwas remarked as she injected the antidote into Kaidan. Between the topical anesthetic and the many other pains warring inside his brain, he barely noticed the needles. His head did throb when he had to reject the good painkillers, though he accepted the anti-nausea meds.

Tali rested in the med bay, a sterile barrier erected to keep her space germ-free. “Back at C-Sec, I thought the clone was about to cough on me,” Tali commented. “But then she looked at me, and she stopped.”

The last step, Kaidan thought. A line only Shepard dared to believe existed; a line Shepard _needed_ to believe existed. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Oh, the usual. Fever, cough, disgusting things in my ears, nose and throat. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Kaidan smiled, really smiled. “Glad to hear it, Tali.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.” Tali touched the barrier, and Kaidan put his hand up to meet hers. “Keelah se’lai, Kaidan.”

Garrus had positioned himself at the mess table closest to the med bay, pouring over a stack of data pads while sneaking glances at the med bay doors. Kaidan closed his eyes, remembering himself in that exact position as he waited for Shepard to finish with Anderson and walk out of the med bay. He’d been in a daze, trying to wrap his brain around a woman who laughed off being hit by a Prothean beacon.

“I bet she wouldn’t mind you going to see her,” Kaidan remarked, keeping his tone neutral.

Garrus’s mandibles flicked outward. “She’ll think I’m hovering.”

“It’s not hovering.” Kaidan slid the datapad stack across the table and out of Garrus’s reach. “It’s you going to see her. And if you _are_ hovering, she’ll tell you.”

“Spirits.” Garrus drummed his talons on the table. “Today I’ve infiltrated C-Sec, gotten jumped by Shepard’s clone, stolen a C-Sec shuttle, assaulted on a mercenary base in the middle of the Wards, and gotten relationship advice from _Kaidan Alenko_."

Kaidan crossed his arms. “So how _did_ Shepard’s clone get the jump on you?”

Garrus leaned back, avoiding Kaidan’s gaze. “I’d better go check on her now.”

“That bad, huh?” Kaidan snickered as Garrus walked away, the turian holding up his middle talon in a very human gesture.

He loitered at the entrance of Liara’s room, extending and retracting his knuckles three times before the doors whooshed open of their own accord. For once, Liara wasn’t at her network terminals, but sitting on her bed, Glyph floating about her head. She didn’t look up as Kaidan walked into her room.

“Is she okay?” Liara asked, her eyes dim.

Kaidan considered that. “I think so? It’s...tricky,” he said, unsure how to describe what had happened. If he even wanted to describe it. “She’s sorry, though. For everything.”

Liara laughed, and sounded only a touch bitter. “She’s led all of us through dark times, and yet we were so unprepared for hers.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed at his temples, shapes at the corners of his vision. The battlefield meds were wearing off, but at least he wasn’t craving another dose for any reason other than ordinary migraine pains. “I don’t think even Shepard was prepared for hers.”

“I see.”

His brain hitched on a throb of pain as he struggled for words. “Liara. For what it’s worth, I’m grateful for what you did. For Shepard,” he clarified. “And the war, too. Even if the details were...sticky. And I know earlier I said some things...”

Liara clasped her hands. “I’m sorry too, Kaidan. Meeting that clone...I prepared myself for Cerberus failing to bring her back, but I never let myself consider any of the ways Cerberus might have twisted her. If I had, I might have stolen her back.”

“I would’ve helped,” Kaidan said with a rueful smile, “and she wouldn’t be here now.”

“And we would have no hope instead of a slim one.” She picked up a datapad and held it out to Kaidan. “While we were busy with all this, Specialist Traynor was working with the Alliance. She may have found a lead on Kai Leng.”

“That’s great.” He took the pad, skimming over the words. Mention of the Iera system caught his eye, but he couldn’t think about that too hard tonight. “I hope you don’t mind if I read this tomorrow?”

“Of course not. I think we all deserve a rest,” Liara agreed.

As he turned to leave, Liara said, “Kaidan?”

He turned back, leaning on a console. “Yeah?”

Liara wouldn’t look at him again. “When I first saw her on Ilium, after Cerberus brought her back, I hoped...” Liara’s eyes were dim. “I don’t know anymore.”

Kaidan gave Liara a quick pat on the back. If there was one thing he empathized with, it was unrequited love. “You’ll always be the one who did the impossible for her.” Strange that so much of his happiness, his _love_ , hinged on an act that his integrity would forbid. Thinking about that now didn’t sit well with him. And if he lost Shepard again...

Now he was the one squeezing his eyes, shying from the truth.

Liara nodded, but her head hung low. “I know you make Shepard happy, Kaidan, but...it’s hard to let her go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Tell me about it.” Much as he would’ve liked to, Kaidan couldn’t blame Liara. He hadn’t coped much better; he’d just gotten lucky.

“Truthfully?” She nibbled on her lip. “I haven’t tried very hard. I’ll have to do better. Shepard won’t always be there to catch me, and...it would be nice to find a bondmate of my own.”

He wasn’t sure he rose to that level in Shepard’s esteem, but the thought buoyed him anyway. “You deserve to be loved, Liara.”

Liara’s eyes had a bright sheen to them. “You’re very kind to say that. Now if you’ll excuse me...”

The door hadn’t quite closed when her sobs began.

Javik stood to the left of the elevators, arms crossed, but every muscle tensed and ready to spring. Unlike Garrus, he didn’t bother to mask his vigil with a pretense. The corners of his four eyes tightened as he regarded Kaidan, and his lips curled into a grisly snarl. “Major. You have made Liara T’Soni cry.”

“I, ah...” Kaidan cringed, glancing back at the door. It wasn’t as if he felt good about Liara’s pain. “I think it’s something she needs to do.”

The Prothean gave him an acid glower, disbelief radiating off him. “Tears are a weakness. Why would one need to indulge in weakness?”

“Catharsis,” Kaidan said. “She’s grieving, Javik. If you don’t let yourself grieve, grief will come and find you.” Kaidan could testify to that.

Javik looked at Kaidan, looked over at the door, and then back to Kaidan. “Just when I start to think there is something of value to be learned from this cycle, I am disappointed again.”

Kaidan’s girlfriend was Commander Shepard. He knew when he was in a futile argument. “She’ll be okay,” he promised before the elevator doors shut. 

He’d have to stay out Javik’s way for a while. Then again, Javik never before used Kaidan’s title to address him. Usually Kaidan was either ‘human’ or a specific death glare that coincided with mornings after he and Shepard had sex. (Which was most of them.)

He heard James ask Cortez, “Seriously man, you’re not gonna tell you why I’m not your type?” as the elevator doors opened.

“You know, for a straight guy, you’re pretty interested in what catches my eye, Mr. Vega,” Cortez said with a wry smirk. James turned plum, and Kaidan chuckled as he walked past.

At the airlock, he hesitated, arguing with himself before sighing and heading over to the bridge. Joker and EDI had reassumed their rightful seats. “You know they still have to finish the retrofits, right?”

“Nuh-uh,” Joker shook his head, and then winced. “They’ll pry my cold, dead body out of this chair.”

“Jeff has two broken bones and moderate joint inflammation,” EDI informed Kaidan. “Excess movement is not recommended.”

“Right,” Kaidan said. “Maybe just try not to scare the retrofitting crew too badly?”

Joker snickered. “No promises.”

“Was that a joke?” EDI asked.

Crashing on the Normandy would’ve been easier, and Kaidan half-regretted the impulse that prodded him into making a trek back to the Silversun Strip instead. The long-anticipated migraine had begun sinking its claws into his tender brain, however, and the drive core-free quiet of Shepard’s new apartment beckoned.

Besides, he suspected Shepard would go back there when she finished her strange errand, and he wanted to be waiting for her when she arrived. That way she’d learn she’d always have somewhere to come back to.

The instant Kaidan stepped inside the apartment, the vid comm link pinged, the noise rattling his pounding skull. With a pained groan, he accepted the connection.

All three councilors appeared on the screen, with an anxious-looking Ambassador Osoba stood beside them. Kaidan squinted against the glare. “Major Alenko.” Councilor Tevos laced her fingers together. “We had hoped to speak with Commander Shepard.”

Kaidan took a breath and counted to five. “She isn’t here, Councilors. Is there something you need?”

The Councilors exchanged looks, communicating entire novels in a language Kaidan didn’t speak. Finally, they turned back to him, Tevos’s jaw set. “We have heard some troubling rumors out of Tayseri Ward.”

“Our sources indicate that you conducted a raid against a paramilitary group known as CAT6.” Valern narrowed his eyes. “C-Sec arrested the men you didn’t kill outright, but the property damage was extensive, and the local citizens are shaken.”

“Most disturbing are the rumors about Shepard, including her allegedly jumping from a building to her death,” Sparatus added. “We need answers, Major.”

He paused, letting the moment draw out the tension as he chose his words. “An anonymous source sent me a tip that CAT6 had been hired to eliminate several high-profile war leaders,” Kaidan explained. The Council didn’t need to know they’d been investigating their own assassination attempts. “My investigation led me to their Citadel outpost.”

“ _You_ conducted this investigation, Major?” Did Valern have to sound so skeptical?

“I did.” Kaidan let some of his resentment escape. He crossed his arms, daring them to challenge him. “CAT6’s presence has been a major part of the recent gang wars in Tayseri Ward. The company was running protection rackets on several refugee camps and had dealings with two known red sand kingpins. Plus I’d need a week to rattle off their members’ individual criminal records.” He sent a silent thank you to Liara’s information network.

“An action like this should have been coordinated with C-Sec.” Sparatus pointed a talon at him. “Instead, you left them to clean up your mess.”

“We had concerns about a security leak. The situation escalated too fast for me to send a sufficiently secured message to Acting Executor Lavinius.”

Tevos, ever the diplomat, glanced between Kaidan and Sparatus. “Nonetheless Major, your actions have unsettled the entire region. Is that something we can afford, given the recent...setbacks?” Her face was distant, pained by the recollection.

“I’m a Spectre.” The words tasted right in his mouth. Kaidan couldn’t replicate Shepard’s classic fuck-you face, but he settled into one of his own. “You appointed me to make calls exactly like this. If you don’t trust me to act in the Council’s best interests, then what are we even doing here?”

Another round of novel-length looks ensued. Kaidan kept his face blank, waiting for the silent deliberations to finish.

“Where does Shepard fit into this?” Valern asked, and Kaidan released the breath he’d been holding.

“She’s conducting a parallel investigation. I ran the raid on CAT6.”

Valern shut his eyes. “Given your record, Major, I confess we hoped your methods would be less...explosive than Shepard’s,” he remarked.

“Those methods saved your life. Twice,” Kaidan reminded them.

“And gave me an eternal headache in return,” Valern said with a sigh. “Might we speak to Shepard, Major?”

“She’s still undercover,” Kaidan said, praying they wouldn’t call his bluff.

“No backup?” Tevos frowned.

“Councilors, Shepard is one of the most talented covert operatives in the galaxy. I ran the CAT6 raid so Shepard could do what Shepard does best.”

After a final round of FTL-speed nonverbal debates, the councilors turned back to him. “Very well, Major,” Valern said. “We expect a full report soon, but you’ve obviously had a long day.”

Kaidan huffed, searing pain and exhaustion rushing over him. “You have no idea.”

“Commander Bailey already confirmed much of what you told us about CAT6,” Sparatus added. “There were fifty-two arrests today, and Captain Evgenia of the Tayseri Street Gangs Unit said they expect a decrease in gang activity in the Ward. Bailey also speculated that at least two hundred cold cases would be cleared as a result of the raid. Whatever else you accomplished today, Major, that is a momentous achievement.”

“I appreciate that, Councilors.” Kaidan wished he could enjoy their approval, but his skull threatened to burst open and splatter his brain across the walls.

“Despite your unfortunate sponsor, we all agree you have great potential as a Spectre, Major.” Tevos graced him with a warm smile. “Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you, Councilors,” he said, rubbing his head. “And I will.”

 

 

**_three._ **

She almost tripped over one of Kaidan’s gauntlets while walking inside the apartment. Kaidan had a strict policy of inspecting his armor the moment he removed it. That he’d left it strewn on the floor was a grave sign.

Shepard bent to pick the gauntlet up, but heard a moan of agony from the sofa when it clinked against a greave. Peering over, she found Kaidan lying there, still in his under-suit, with a hand thrown over his eyes. He’d managed to get the lights off and the windows’ blast shield extended, but lost whatever momentum he’d mustered and collapsed on the sofa.

The noise he made when she touched him told Shepard that moving him wouldn’t be an option. Her compromise was to creep upstairs and change, stealing one of his undershirts, before padding back down to settle on the other sofa. She curled up, keeping her breathing slow and quiet for Kaidan’s sake.

What silent promise had she made herself in the Archives? To deal with the anger once she had time to stop and breathe. She had that now, and she hated it.

Sitting in the dark was never productive unless she was on a mission. She preferred perpetual movement. Shepards in motion stayed in motion, and Shepards at rest had demons ready to rear their ugly heads, old anger ready to crowd the unfilled spaces. When she closed her eyes she heard her mother, praying to gods too far away to answer. _Dios te salve, Maria_.

Well, she could always count the number of awkward apologies and complex conversations she’d need to have with her crew in the coming days. Even if by some miracle they forgave her, there would be lasting effects, something they couldn’t afford with the Reapers advancing on every front.

Kaidan whimpered, shifting a bit. Shepard was torn on whether she wanted him to wake. Much as she hated seeing him in pain, once he did, they’d have to talk, and then he’d leave, because he’d finally gotten a glimpse of how very deep the void inside her went.

None of that even factored in what her clone had done to him. There were words for what had happened, but Shepard would let Kaidan decide if he wanted to use them.

She wouldn’t cut and run, though. She owed him the chance to leave on his own terms.

 

 

**_four._ **

He dozed between new waves of agony. Glimmers of clarity sparkled through the haze of torture: his head positioned over a bucket, a pillow propped beneath him, a cool hand stroking his blazing forehead.

When he cracked open his eyes, the pain had receded from lake of fire to mere inferno. Shepard sat on the sofa across from him. She’d pulled her knees to her chest, her arms curled around her legs.

“Hey.” It was more a croak than a word.

Shepard flinched, drawn out of whatever thoughts gripped her. “You’re awake,” she murmured, and it was heavenly to hear her, even if the sound itself was gravel rubbing into his brain.

“How long...?”

She shrugged. “Couple hours?”

He took his time, lying there, finding his bearings. The migraine was on its way out, but he didn’t want to push too fast.

“Hackett and I had a long conversation about indoctrination when I was under house arrest.” She kept her voice feather-light. “Specifically, about all my old crew. You guys have risen pretty high in the galaxy. He asked me if it came to it, if I could kill one of my people. I told him I didn’t know. Guess I have my answer now.”

He’d thought she was bluffing back at the tower, but her joyless chuckle told him otherwise.

“I put the profiles together so Hackett could deploy an N7 squad if any of you became indoctrinated. Weak points, suggested takedown tactics, electronic counter-measures. Had to send him regular updates.” She propped her chin on her knees. “You guys just keep blowing past me.”

It was painful to picture: Shepard locked in an Alliance cell, typing out ways to kill the people she loved. Kaidan was grateful Hackett had given her the out, but it was a burden no one should ever have to carry.

With a soft groan, Kaidan sat up, pleased there was no accompanying rush of nausea. He gave her a wobbly smile and patted the space he’d vacated. She eyed the couch cushion with the same level of enthusiasm as she did Reapers, but she did move, stationing herself at the far edge of the sofa.

His heart twisted. “It’s okay if you don’t want to sit with me,” he said despite the dull pressure in his chest.

Shepard cocked her head at him. “Huh? Oh, no, just...I wasn’t sure if you needed boundaries. After what happened with you and the clone.”

He squeezed his eyes against the pain, the anguish beyond any migraine. “Shepard, I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare.” Her voice rose, her snarl a black knot lodged in his throat. “Don’t you ever apologize to me for that.”

“I—” Hope and grief battled within him, his brain a confused throb.

“No.” She struck like a cobra, her finger on his lips. In the dark her eyes were pure onyx, but she was still spice and gun oil and palladium in his nose. “Let me be clear. You did not know. It was not your fault. I do not blame you. I will _never_ blame you.”

The knot loosened as Shepard’s hand dropped away. “It was my fault.”

Kaidan couldn’t follow her logic, so he reached for her receding hand, clasped it between his, and brought it to his lips. “Why?” he asked, the question sliding over her skin.

“Whatever crack she slipped through,” Shepard said, “I made it, didn’t I?”

He could’ve told her _of course not_ , because Shepard wasn’t responsible for his insecurities. He could’ve told her _you had no way of knowing_ , because there was no way she could have predicted a Cerberus clone. He could’ve told her _it doesn’t matter_ , because they were here and the clone wasn’t.

He didn’t. He kissed her hand instead, letting his lips speak a different language, letting the silence act as an acknowledgment. She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning into him.

Kaidan trailed his hand down her cheek, tilting her chin to face him, and Shepard’s eyes dipped down, glints escaping between the fans of her lashes. He brushed his lips over hers, and when her mouth parted, he found the homeland he sought in the contours of her mouth, the welcoming coil of her tongue. His eyes fluttered shut as he deepened the kiss, exulting in the warmth of her breath as he sipped it from her lips.

When her hands came to his neck, Kaidan rose halfway, gently tugging them upwards to stand. Shepard moved with him, never breaking contact with his hands or mouth, lingering a moment longer before releasing him.

With his hand in hers, they padded up the stairs, pausing to brush fingers over collarbones or drop pecks onto palms. Shepard unzipped his under-suit with languid movements, complying with the lazy tempo Kaidan set for them both. Her lips curled in the hollow of his neck as her fingers dallied over the edge of his briefs. For a moment, she rested there with him, both leaning in to the other to keep standing, and Kaidan closed his eyes, drifting with her.

Shepard’s hand moved again, pulling down his briefs. As Kaidan kicked them away, Shepard sat at the end of the bed, her fingers lacing with his. She laid her head against his abdomen, and Kaidan stroked her hair, tangled in the soft waves, in the feel of her, in the simple joy of the moment.

She lifted her head and smiled up at him, and Kaidan’s mouth responded of its own volition. He spread her out on the bed, trailing small, unhurried kisses up her thigh, stopping to breathe in the scent of her sex. Shepard gasped as his teeth scraped the delicate skin there, a full body shudder overtaking her.

It was different tonight, Kaidan’s hazy mind gathered. _Shepard_ was different tonight. She drew her shirt over her head, and Kaidan’s breath caught, the way it always caught each time he first saw her naked. Most nights they were too wrapped in each other to stop and appreciate the view, but tonight he paused to trace with his eyes the curves of her teacup breasts, the flare of her hips, and the gleam of her well-defined abdomen. His cock ached to plunge into the dark curls between her legs, but Kaidan wanted to float, not thrust.

He lay beside Shepard, instead, and she turned to face him, a dreamy look on her face. “Hey,” she whispered, brushing her fingers over his arm.

“Hey yourself,” he murmured back, his hand cupping over one elegant little breast. He loved her. Those words had new gravity, pulling him deeper into their energy well as she nuzzled her nose against his. His fingers plied along the sides of her breast, teasing as they drifted along the edges, firm as they grazed the curve below, and Shepard huffed a moan, sweetly arcing into his touch. Kaidan’s hands shook just hearing her, thumbing the dense brown peak. Her unsteady hands ambled across his jaw and behind his ear, the light pad of her fingertips dragging him under.

Shepard kissed him, her mouth swallowing his moan of pleasure as she found the sensitive skin near his jack. Kaidan’s hand jerked at the tingling rush, pulling at her nipple. She hummed into him, her lips buzzing over his as one hand crept downwards, the other teasing her other breast. When she pulled back for air, Kaidan scooted down and captured the tip in his mouth, drawing slow circles with his tongue. Shepard breathed, the rising warmth between them still tempered by their quiet, drowsy movements.

_I love you_ , he wanted to tell her, so he mouthed it into her breast like a secret as his hands traveled over the planes of her stomach. Shepard sucked in a hard breath, and Kaidan sucked at the nipple, his lips grasping as her body trembled.  One teasing hand moved downward, stopping to trace patterns in the hollow of her hip, to travel of the curves of her backside, before dappling his way down to the contours of her.

“Please touch me,” Shepard groaned, barely audible.

“Shhhh,” Kaidan said, even as he acceded, his own fingers aching to find their way. Shepard was already pleasantly damp, her thighs tacky, and she groaned as his fingers fumbled through her dark curls. Her nail circled his aureole, the scoring causing him to lurch and swipe a finger hard over her clit and along one swollen fold. A throaty chuckle made his cock twitch.

In retaliation, Kaidan ran that same finger back upward, drawing a languorous path through her slit. He delayed at the sultry opening, rubbing it with slow, small circles that made Shepard utter his name as her thighs quivered. Shepard’s hips rose to meet him, a tremor of longing rocking her against his hand. Kaidan continued upward, back to her clitoris, drawing one last arc before his thumb brushed over the nub, eliciting a cry from Shepard as he toyed with her.

Shepard’s hands tangled in his hair, and Kaidan relished the way her fingers rasped over his scalp. His lips, still traveling her breasts, moved back upward even as he continued to stroke her.

His eyes caught in hers, and the jolt was pure electricity, her eyes sparking like exposed live wires in the darkness. Kaidan groaned as his cock brushed her curls, and his mouth caught hers, exploring her bottom lip as her hands roamed over the gooseflesh on his back. Shepard ground into him, the tip of his cock sliding along her slick folds as he teased her with his hand. Kaidan grunted, barely able to lift his eyelids.

At the prodding of her right leg, he lifted himself off the bed, allowing her to tuck her leg underneath him. They swayed closer to one another, searching for a comfortable rhythm.

When he finally slipped inside her, it was a joint venture, Shepard meeting his slow, easy push with a smooth rock of her hips. She was a soft, melting core around him, her muscles tightening as she wrapped her legs around him. Kaidan groaned aloud, dragging her as close to him with his free hand.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, breathed in hitches and gasps as he reveled in the feel of her. Shepard unfurled a lazy smile as they lay there, entwined and unmoving, letting the moment drift into an eternity. A tender hand brushed the curls off his forehead. He moved in a slow cant, matching the light circles he traced along her clitoris. He kissed his way to her ear and bit the lobe, and her shivering keen sent biotic sparks glimmering over his skin, the hum of dark energy tickling his overwarm flesh.

She ran her hands over the globes of his ass, pushing him deeper inside her with a teasing squeeze to one of his cheeks. When he jolted, his forehead bumped into hers, and they both balked, chuckling as Shepard rubbed the sore spots.

Kaidan couldn’t pinpoint what felt so different, and his lust-fogged mind preferred to dwell on the blaze of warmth around him, the tight drag of Shepard’s muscles as she rocked with him, the roil of his hips as he thrust into her again and again.

Then he saw it, in her eyes as they rolled back, in her trembling mouth as it when slack, in the pulse at her throat. She was raw for him, exposed as she’d never been, barriers wavering, light pouring through the cracks in her walls.

He growled as she let out a long, lusty wail. Shepard clamped around him as her orgasm ricocheted through her system, every part of her quaking as pleasure overtook her. Moments later, he followed her, eezo crackling over his skin as he flared blue, hips pitching uncontrollably as he sunk into her again and again, his head light and his body ablaze.

“Love you,” he moaned into her neck, the words ripped from him over and over as he poured everything into her, and he did love her, loved that she saw beyond black and white and Alliance blue to navigate the infinite gray, loved that she carried the entire galaxy on her slim shoulders with a wry smirk and a snotty quip, loved that she was pure palladium with a molten core only he saw, loved _Shepard_ , all through the years and everything and until the end of time.

Kaidan gulped oxygen, trying to calm his hummingbird-fast heart, yet he was content to hold Shepard, be left wrecked and trembling in the wake of them. Shepard had that odd light in her dark eyes, the one that used to make him heartsick, but now he took it for what it was: he’d slipped underneath all her defenses.

Odd. Kaidan could practically draw a map tracing his path to Shepard, yet he’d never asked himself how he snuck past her barriers. Maybe he’d been too grateful to care.

“Love you,” he repeated one last time, a verbal caress, as he slipped out of her. Kaidan moved onto his back, and Shepard rested her head on him, her warmth a reassuring weight as he drifted off to sleep.

 

 

**_five._ **

 

Shepard knew the exact moment Kaidan awakened, but she kept still, her breathing deliberate as she delayed the truth. She was still wrecked, her old fortifications swept away in the wake of him, but somehow she felt grounded for the first time since Thessia.

“She was trying to help me,” Shepard said, letting the words settle into the darkness.

Kaidan stiffened under her, and she didn’t have to look to know he had a bewildered expression on his face. To his credit, he didn’t dismiss her with a scornful laugh or a sarcastic crack. Shepard wasn’t sure she could’ve borne that.

His silence emboldened her. “After the raid, I was alone. Everything, _everyone_ I’d ever loved had been stolen from me. And even though it destroyed me, there was a...freedom in their being gone. No one to love also meant no one to hurt, to disappoint. Twisted, but true.”

She felt him swallow beneath her. “You sound wistful.”

“No.” The clone had wiped that clean. “I found my brother’s name on a list of captures.”

“The Shepards were all declared dead.”

“The Shepards were.” Small as the colony had been, she’d never even heard of the Shepard family until the Alliance declared her one of them. “But Tomás Contreras was reported as having been captured.”

Kaidan didn’t respond for a long time. “Maria Contreras,” he murmured. “So that was your name.”

“It’s strange hearing that out loud,” Shepard admitted. As of September, she’d been Shepard longer than she’d ever been Maria Contreras.

“I like it,” he told her, petting her hair, “but you’re still Shepard to me.”

Once after the Battle of the Citadel, they’d snuck out together after a meeting and found a still-open asari sweet shop in Zakera Ward. The human girl working there had been named Maria, and Kaidan, who liked to call service workers by their names, said _Thank you, Maria_ when the girl handed him their treats. Shepard had been riveted, torn between the sick lurch she always felt when she heard her name aloud, and a dark, unsteady thrill at hearing _Kaidan_ say it. That same thrill ran down her spine when he said it just now.

Shepard twisted around, resting her chin on her arms and her arms on his chest. Kaidan’s lids were heavy, still dreamy from sleep. He lifted a hand to her face, thumbing her cheek before placing it on her elbow.

“I went after him.”

His head rose up, studying her through bleary eyes. “How?”

“Punched a social worker, stole his credit chit, and smuggled myself aboard the first shuttle off Arcturus Station. Hitchhiked the rest of the way.”

Kaidan’s chest rumbled underneath her as his head dropped back, his eyes drifting shut. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There isn’t,” Shepard said quickly. There was, but it wasn’t a good one. “It took me four months, but I found what I was looking for.”

“Your brother?”

“Counter-Hegemonists.” His eyes cracked open. “I figured there had to be batarians out there who hated the Hegemony as much as I did. I got wind of a group on one of Adek’s moons called the Korrites. The largest group, and the only one active in the Kite’s Nest. They were...surprised, but they took me in. I spent the next eight months as a batarian freedom fighter.”

Kaidan let out a low whistle between his teeth. “Shepard, that’s...and I thought Vyrnnus was intense.”

“Don’t compare them,” Shepard said. Liara obtained some of the records on BAaT at Shepard’s request, and even she’d had to set the datapad down a few times to process what she read. If anything, she admired Kaidan for not killing the bastard sooner. “I have some stories, but there’s one you _need_ to hear.”

It took a while to gather herself, to select words that would allow her to explain this without breaking down or sending him packing. “We put together a plan to bomb a plantation. Major hub for the region, where they hosted most of the auctions. Plan was to hit on auction day, since most of the landed owners would be there.”

“And their slaves.” Kaidan sounded sad, but not condemning.

Shepard stared at the wall. “Better to die than be a slave, right? That’s what I told myself. I rigged the auction block. Wasn’t the only target but...” She sighed, sorting through the memories from the safe zone she’d created inside her mind. “The leader knew I was looking for Tom. She spotted his name on the trade manifest. I didn’t find out until...after.”

_Say something_ , she silently begged him. Yell at her. Throw her off. Storm out of the apartment. “You didn’t know, Shepard.”

“That’s not the point!” She shook her head, her whole body, rejecting his comfort. “What difference did it make? It disrupted the region’s supply lines for months, rattled the Hegemony’s elite. We were fighting to end the Hegemony. To end _slavery_. What’s one life, no matter how important that life was to me, against an idea that big?”

She waited for him to grasp her words. “You don’t think you would’ve saved him,” Kaidan murmured, his voice slow.

“It’s academic. I never had the choice. And once he was dead, it didn’t matter. They were all gone.” She looked away. “I would’ve liked the choice.”

The stroking began again, and Shepard flinched before realizing Kaidan still wanted to comfort her. After a few moments fighting herself, she accepted the reassurance. “What happened then?” he asked.

“A big boom and a lot of dead rich batarians. The Special Forces group that’d been dealing with the Korrites pulled me out when things got too hot. N6s and N7s. One of the N6s pulled me aside, told me I was wasted out there, that the Alliance would train me to kill aliens and pay me to do it. Also, free dental.”

“Free...dental?”

“I had a toothache.” Kaidan didn’t ask about the N6, which was a relief. Shepard didn’t see him again until the day he killed Thane Krios. “Spent a couple months bumming around Earth until I got bored and walked into the nearest recruitment office.”

“So...” He groped a bit for a question. “Is that it? The worst thing you’ve ever done?”

Shepard laughed, the sound hollow. A dozen images flashed through her mind. “Not even close. But a lot of that’s classified and I...” She put her head on his shoulder. “I’m not very good at this, Kaidan.”

“It was a good start,” he murmured as she wrapped her arm around his chest, “but it can’t be the end, Shepard. I love you, but you...I can’t wait in limbo for you forever.”

“I know,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I know I’ve been punishing you for Horizon. I meant to forgive you. I really did. You had every reason to walk away. But I have all this _garbage_ , Kaidan, and you’re a good man. Way before Horizon I knew you’d eventually take your way out, and standing there that day it was just...yeah. I guess I’m still waiting.”

“Oh, _Shepard_.” Kaidan’s voice was hoarse, cracking over name. He cuddled her closer to him, his arm a vise around her waist. “There’s no way out for me. There’s _never_ been a way out for me. Best I’ve ever managed is damage control.”

Her mind whirled as the words sunk into her psyche. “Oh,” was all Shepard could think to say. He kept stroking her hair, though the pace had slowed.

“I wasn’t always this fucked up,” Shepard informed him. “My family...they loved me, Kaidan. And then were gone and I...I used to tell myself _Maria_ was dead and with them, and Shepard’s all that remains. Shepard doesn’t feel any pain. Shepard can lose herself in the mission. Shepard is _free_.”

When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “So you see, she was trying to help me. She thought if you were all gone, then I’d be free too. Then she got caught in her own trap. I think I knew only one of us was leaving the tower alive, but I had to try.”

Kaidan’s eyes were cold and soft, like he’d just come in from a snowstorm. “Are you in that much pain, Shepard?”

“No.” She kissed his chin. “Not like that. It was hard for a long time, on both Normandys, but it’s been worth it. I changed, Kaidan. Eden Prime, the beacon...you. You changed me. I couldn’t go back to living that way if I tried.” She _had_ tried, in fact.

His hand stilled over her hair, trembling a bit. She knew she should push herself, tell him all the things locked up inside her. That he showed her she could fight, and _win_ , without a wellspring of rage in her chest. That he was the last thing she saw when she died and the first thing she saw when she woke up again. That she’d loved him across two lifetimes and been better for it.

Pure exhaustion smothered her under its weight, draining away her good intentions. Shepard yawned, and moments later, Kaidan mimicked her. She nestled close to him and closed her eyes.

“You still think that?”

“Mmm?” Between her tired brain and Kaidan’s sleepy slur, she couldn’t grasp the question.

“You still think you died with them?”

Her eyes snapped open, but gravity began dragging them back down. “Not sure. Thinking earlier I had it all wrong.” She’d surprised herself when the notion popped out, mixed with thoughts of the clone, doomed before she ever had a chance to be someone other than a pawn in someone else’s game. “They’ve been alive all along. Because they’re with me.”

The silence stretched on so long, Shepard assumed Kaidan fell asleep. Then he murmured, “Maybe my dad’s alive too.”

“Sure.” Shepard’s eyes closed again, but her mind started working over the possibilities. “And Mordin’s alive.”

“Thane Krios,” Kaidan mumbled.

“Legion.” More of an exhale than a statement.

“And Ash.” Kaidan’s hand drifted down her arm, and Shepard smiled through her drowsy haze. “Ash is alive.”

“Definitely,” she agreed.

They drifted, together, in the quiet.

“Yeah,” Kaidan breathed. “I like that.”


	8. Epilogue

When Maria was seven years old, she got lost in the forests near her parents' property. She'd always been better than her brothers were at hide and seek, and the massive old tree she chose was perfect for climbing. Unfortunately, Maria picked her spot too well, and when the sun went down, her brothers went home and admitted they lost.

It grew dark, and the once-familiar forests she ran crowded with shadows. Maria was scared, but she had big brothers, so she knew if you pretended you weren't, then it wasn't so bad.

She waited, and her dad appeared, shining a light bright enough to find all her footholds. Her mom sobbed as she hugged her, but no one said anything that night. The next day, her dad bought star charts of Mindoir's skies for his omni-tool, and they learned the skies together. He taught her how to read the stars, and together they made up constellations, wrote the stories behind them _. Follow the stars, mijita,_ he'd say, _and you can always find your way home._                                

Shepard hadn't thought of that in years, but the memory resurfaced as she disentangled herself from Kaidan's sleeping form. With a quick peck to his cheek, she slipped out of the bed and into her wardrobe.

There was no protocol for this. She didn’t know if she should wear black or her dress blues and after ten minutes agonizing, Shepard decided she didn’t give a damn. She threw on her usual fatigues and her N7 hoodie.

She’d do this as herself.

Even if it didn't occur to her until she was nearly at the elevator, she did leave Kaidan a note telling her where she'd be. That was bizarre, letting someone know where she would be when the last thing Shepard wanted was to be found, but he'd worry. She was trying, for her own sake as much as his.

Business boomed at funeral homes, even when most of the boxes ejected into the vacuum of space were empty. Shepard paid triple the usual fees to a volus-run home, and found herself sandwiched between half a family from Adelaide and an asari and her two young daughters, letting go of her turian bondmate. Shepard let the asari family go first, the asari weeping as they clung to one another.

She was numb. She was a Noverian snowcap with hot labs roiling underneath. She was voiceless screams. She was ever walking that razor wire.

“Are you ready, Earth-clan?” the volus attendant asked. He didn’t recognize her, gouged her on the price of roses. She didn’t even like roses much, but decorative options were in short supply.

There needed to be flowers. She needed to do this right, even if her clone’s face was smashed beyond recognition, even if no one cared, because Shepard woke up too damn many times in a universe that didn’t give a fuck.

Damn it, someone needed to _care_.

“Let’s go,” she said, taking her place at the viewing window. Stars twinkled back at her. _All seems so calm from here._

“Wait.” Shepard was confused for a moment, the voice in her mind suddenly tangible to her ears. She turned, and there was Kaidan, in full dress but with his cuffs unbuttoned and his medals skewed.

“Sorry we’re running late.” He slid at credit chit to the grumpy volus. “The rest of the party is right behind me.”

“The rest of the—?” Shepard cocked her head at him, her brain shorting out. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

“Got your note,” he replied, as if that answered her question. “The others are running behind.”

“That’s not what I asked.” That hot lab under skin was ready to burst, spill its secrets all over this poor bastard’s floor. “You didn’t need to come. I can take care of this myself.”

Kaidan reached out and took her hand, loose cuffs still flapping. "You don't have to."

She spotted Liara, elegant as always in head-to-toe black. Tali with an unsteady gait and black scarves, leaning into Garrus. Garrus in his dress blues, carrying a bottle of brandy. Wrex in his usual armor and a jug of ryncol. Javik with his arms crossed. James, Cortez, Chakwas, and Traynor in full dress. EDI with a black band around her arm. Even Joker had his blues on, though his dingy Alliance baseball cap took the place of his cap.

“Sorry we’re late.” Garrus passed the brandy bottle to the volus. “Had to stop at the store. Turians send their dead with something to ease the passage.”

“Mine’s for the after party.” Wrex held up his jug. “It’s not a decent krogan funeral unless we put someone else in the ground.”

“I understand black is the most popular choice for human memorial services,” Liara said, smoothing out her skirts.

"This is an odd ritual, Commander. In my cycle, one such as your clone would be left to rot where she fell."

Shepard’s mouth kept opening and shutting. She dreaded anything that might pop out, screams or sobs or some new, horrible thing she was about to invent. Her lungs were overinflated and close to popping. She knew why her eyes were burning, but pushed everything down. “You didn’t have to come,” she repeated.

"We know, Shepard." Liara's smile was ageless and sad.

There was no protocol for this.

“Are you ready _now_?” the volus demanded between wheezes. “We have a schedule.”

Shepard nodded, not trusting her voice, and turned to the window. Kaidan stood beside her, and she took each of his wrists in her hand, fastening the cuffs and tucking them in to his uniform.

“Do you want to say anything?” he asked.

 _I’m sorry my memories drove you insane_ , maybe. Or, _we both knew better than this; we didn’t have to live as chalk outlines._

_We were never chalk outlines._

“No,” Shepard said.

The launcher fired the casket into space, and they all watched as the blue flame zipped away, leaving only the casket to drift into space. Kaidan put his arm around her, and Shepard leaned her head on his shoulder. They stared, silent, until the void swallowed her.

Maybe joining the Alliance had never been about violence or rage or free dental. Maybe she'd followed the stars, trying to find her way home.

She kissed Kaidan’s cheek. “We should go.”

“Yeah.” His lips brushed along her ear. “Let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you for reading. (I know it took you a while to get here.)
> 
> I suppose this all started when, at the end of the Citadel mission, I couldn't bring myself to kill the clone as she hung off the edge of the Normandy. There'd been all these wistful, bitter little touches Bioware added to her character (even if the actual plot had holes you could drive a Mako through). With Brooks calling the shots, she never really had a chance, did she?
> 
> This is my first full-length Mass Effect story (but hopefully not my last), as well as my first full-length fanfic in several years. I started with just a few snippets and images in my head, and here we are, 74,000 words later. (Holy crap.)
> 
> It was a frustrating, brain-breaking journey, although also personally cathartic in many ways. Balancing my idea against the actual characters, rummaging through their heads so I could believably get them to the places I needed to them to go, was no small challenge. I was still making plot decisions up to a couple days ago, and I made a lot of compromises and sacrifices. (Sorry, Traynor.) In the end, I wanted to bring the characters together in Citadel's spirit, even if I was mindfucking the shit out of every one of them.
> 
> I want to give a shout out to my wonderful artist, [greendelle](http://greendelle.tumblr.com), who went to some extraordinary lengths for me, including adjusting artwork when I made story changes. I also want to thank [azzy](http://azzydarling.tumblr.com) and [bioticbooty](http://bioticbooty.tumblr.com) for hosting the Spring BB (especially Azzy, who listened to me ramble more than once and did a bit of beta work). Finally, I want to acknowledge [reyairia](http://reyairia.tumblr.com), [rosenkovmaterials](http://rosenkovmaterials.tumblr.com), and [galleywinter](http://galleywinter.tumblr.com), whose essays and meta had a significant impact on this story, especially reyairia's Liaramance meta.
> 
> I'm looking forward to/preemptively cringing at feedback.


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